Dancers
by Lady Margot
Summary: The Legacy investigates a series of murders with the help of the local Kindred and two very unusual cousins.


Dancers  
  
The beast slunk low to the ground, sniffing the air in an attempt to catch its prey's scent. The cool, damp air of the park carried all manner of smells to it, distracting the creature momentarily from its object. Above its head a full moon hung cold and pale in a starless sky. All was quiet in the park, as though creatures recognized the horror that walked among them. Then it found it, the scent of the human who would soon be carrion for the worms. It grumbled low in its misshapen throat, moving with unnatural speed towards its unwary prey.  
  
-  
  
Jason Alexander plodded home wearily, his hands buried in his coat. The party he had just attended had run longer than he had expected. It was almost midnight before he had managed to get his money from the hostess, who had drunkenly suggested a more personal repayment. He stretched wearily, trying to massage the cramps out of his back. Private parties always seemed to be more strenuous than his normal day job. But then, everything seemed harder to cope with these days. Nothing had gone as he had hoped for. He had come to San Francisco only a year before with dreams of joining a ballet company and making a name for himself on the West Coast. Somewhere in the depths of his soul he had always known he didn't have the talent to compete in the more established companies in New York or Boston, but he had hoped that here he would at least have a fighting chance. Now his days were endless rounds of auditions, dance classes and working at the Blue Pelican bar. And of course, the occasional private bachelorette party to pay the bills. "Man, if I don't get a break soon," he thought to himself, "I'm going to have to throw in the towel." It wasn't something he looked forward to. He could already hear his father's condescending voice pointing out all his deficiencies.  
  
He was half way through the park before he heard the sound, a low rumbling coming from the bushes. For a moment he considered investigating then thought better of it. There had been reports of strange events in the park. A child had been kidnapped from its mother here only a few months ago and mysteriously returned a few days later. People had whispered about hearing screams from the more overgrown areas and only two days before a body had been found near the entrance to a small graveyard that bordered on the park. "Maybe it's just a dog." Jason rationalized, quickening his pace.  
  
It was the last coherent thought he had before he died.  
  
--  
  
Pt. 2  
  
Detective Frank Carmack shook his head in disgust as he watched the team from the Morgue wrap up the remains of the latest victim. "Another one?" he asked, looking down at the dead man's terrified expression. Whatever he had seen, it hadn't been good.  
  
"Looks like it." the technician, replied, zipping up the body bag.  
  
Frank turned away and focused on a young uniformed officer who was trying desperately not to throw up. "Any I.D. on the body?" he asked his tone sympathetic.  
  
"None that we've found yet." An older officer replied. He nodded to the younger man who gratefully moved back to his car. "We're still canvassing the area, talking to potential witnesses."  
  
"Witnesses? In this area?" Frank scoffed. "Not likely." He turned and began to walk along the path towards the rear entrance to the park, his eyes searching for anything that might give him a clue as to who was behind these murders. All around him other detectives performed the same ritual, each looking into different corners of the park for some scrap that might help identify their mysterious killer. He followed the trail left on the ground from the dead man's fingers as he had frantically tried to crawl away from his killer. Whoever or whatever had murdered this man had dragged him a good ten feet before tearing his throat open and leaving him to bleed to death.  
  
"Found something!" a voice called out. Another detective, Sonny Toussaint crawled out from behind some bushes, a canvas bag in his hand. "Looks like this may belong to the victim." He pulled open the bag and pulled out a flyer with the dead man's face on it. It was an advertisement for a company who provided "exotic" dancers for private parties.  
  
"So the guy was a stripper?" Frank asked, looking down at the paper. "Doesn't fit with our guy's pattern." He glanced up at Toussaint's face, mentally wondering where the younger man's strange partner was. There was much sympathy in the department for Toussaint. Many officers wondered how the good natured detective could work so effectively with a madman like Frank Carmack, a man who believed in vampires and had an obsession with the city's reputed mob boss.  
  
"You think he was done by the same guy who did the others?" Sonny asked warily. The sun was just beginning to break through the thick, wet fog. It's light would soon be a problem for the detective, a member of the vampire clan known as Ventrue. Normally assigned to the night shift, Sonny had been called in unexpectedly when the body had been found so soon after the last one. He had managed to feed before arriving at the crime scene but the sun's light still bothered him, like an itch he couldn't quite scratch.  
  
"Maybe. Too early to tell."  
  
Sonny looked over the other man's shoulder. "Looks like we've got a witness."  
  
A uniformed officer trotted up to the two detectives, an elderly man in tow. "Detective, this is Mr. Chase. He drives a cab in this area and says he may have seen something last night."  
  
"I'm not sure what I saw." The man replied querulously. "It was late and I'd been pulling a double shift. Maybe it was my imagination." The old man's eyes darted nervously around him, peering with blurry eyes at the shadowy trees.  
  
"What did you think you saw?" Frank asked wearily.  
  
"Something big and ugly came running out of the bushes just around midnight. I didn't get a good look at it and I'm glad I didn't. You're going to think I'm nuts but I swear it was the Devil himself!"  
  
Pt. 3  
  
"There have been four murders in the city, the last one committed only last night." Carmack looked down the length of the long oak table in the Luna foundation house at Derek Rayne, the Precept of the Legacy House. "Four young men, slaughtered by person or persons unknown. All the victims were early twenties, dark hair and muscular builds. All four of them were dancers by profession. Two were part of the San Francisco ballet, one worked with a folk dance troupe and the other was an exotic dancer."  
  
"A stripper you mean." Nick Boyle, the House's security specialist, commented. His statement was universally ignored, much to his amusement.  
  
"Why do you think this is a case the Legacy needs to look into, Frank?" Derek asked, puzzled. "It sounds like a standard homicide to me. Perhaps the FBI can help with a profiler."  
  
"We had a witness to last night's attack who swears he saw the Devil come running out of the park around the time the last victim was killed. The rest of the task force thinks the man was nipping at the booze while he was waiting for a fare, but after some of the things I've seen around you.Well, I thought you might want to take a look."  
  
Derek frowned, looking down at the files that the detective had brought with him. This was not a good time for Carmack to bring something to the House's attention. He was woefully short handed, with Rachel at a medical conference, Alex visiting her grandmother and Kristen spending time with her brother. Only Nick was available to look into the matter and he had other investigations that needed to be completed. Derek lifted one of the crime scene photos and examined it dispassionately. Whoever had killed these men had first roughed them up; breaking bones and leaving deep gashes in their backs and faces. As he gazed at the photo a wave of disorientation enveloped him as his Sight opened a door to a past event. A man was running down a foggy path, running for his life. Behind him a shadowy figure was keeping pace with him, never overtaking him yet never letting him get too far ahead. Then suddenly the shadow was gone and the man stopped, confused by its absence. A long, bony claw darted suddenly out of the deep fog and the man was hoisted high in the air, screaming as his body was thrown into a park bench. The shadow stepped out of the fog and turned to Derek, its face a mask of grimacing evil.  
  
"Derek? You okay?" Nick asked, concerned. His Precept had suddenly stopped in mid-sentence and was staring in horror at the photo in front of him, a photo he had already examined and put aside without comment only moments before.  
  
Derek blinked, startled by the sound of Nick's voice. "Yes, I'm fine. Frank, maybe we will take a look into this case." He ignored the surprised look on his friend's face as he rose and led the detective to the door. "We'll get back to you as soon as possible Frank."  
  
"Thanks Derek, I appreciate the backup." Frank pulled out his keys and started for the door. "By the way, if you can't get a hold of me, just leave a message with the task force. They usually know where to find me. Ask for Detective Sonny Toussaint. He's acting as my second on this one. You'll like him Nick. He's a good cop, tough and smart as they come. I'm lucky his lieutenant let me borrow him." Frank strolled out the door to his car, his mind considerably more at ease.  
  
Inside the Luna Foundation, Derek mentally ticked off the number of jobs that could be put aside to begin this new investigation. "Nick, go and talk to your friend in the Coroners office, see if she can tell us anything more about the condition of the bodies. Also, see what you can dig up on this Detective Toussaint. If we're going to be working with him, we need to know something about him."  
  
"What did you see?" Nick asked, leaning on the banister.  
  
"Evil. A creature of pure evil. It's no wonder the poor bastards look like they've been scared to death. I think they just might have."  
  
--  
  
Sonny pulled into driveway of his Prince's home just as the moon was beginning to rise. He was off two minds about what he was about to do. The witness had described an assailant with horrific features and claws where his hands should have been. To Sonny, the childe of a Ventrue prince, it almost sounded as though the man was describing a Nosferatu. If that was so, then Daedalus must be informed so that he could take the appropriate steps. But things were not so cut and dried anymore, what with a new Brujah Primogen looking to take Julian's place as Prince of the city and a new Ventrue Archon looking over the Prince's shoulder at every move he made. Julian didn't make it any easier. He had been almost unreachable since he had sent his human paramour, Caitlin Burns, away. Not even Lillie, the Toreador Primogen and Julian's sometime lover, could seem to reach behind that cold Ventrue facade he had built around him. Sonny sighed and opened the front door, hoping he wasn't about to make a volatile situation worse.  
  
Inside the den, Julian and his Archon Isolde were deep in conversation. "Cameron is pushing to have those contracts signed by the end of the week. If he succeeds, then he will have sole control of much of the waterfronts and much more power then his predecessor Eddie Fiori ever had." Julian glanced thoughtfully at the woman seated beside him. His sire, Archon Raine, and this girl both called the Justicar Khan "father" and both in their way carried the lessons their master had taught as part of their being. Both had been brought across to serve their clan and their sire's interests yet both Archon and Isolde had managed to make a life for themselves apart from their sire's ambitions. Both could be coldly forbidding and yet the next minute charming and hospitable. They were, as Daedalus had said, completely Ventrue.  
  
"Cameron isn't going to get those contracts. I've left a few legal land mines in his way that should be detonating fairly soon." Isolde closed the file and tossed it onto the desk with a quick flick of the wrist. "He's an interesting opponent. I didn't expect a Brujah to be much of an intellectual challenge."  
  
Sonny cleared his throat, and stepped warily into room. "Julian, can I have a minute?"  
  
"Julian, I'll leave you with your childe." Isolde rose gracefully from her seat and gathered up her black lace shawl.  
  
"No, this is something you're going to need to hear too." Sonny replied quickly, moving to stand before his sire and his Prince. "There's a danger to the Masquerade at large in the city. I'm afraid a member of the Kindred is hunting humans."  
  
Julian stiffened imperceptibly in his seat. "What makes you think it is one of the Clans?" he asked, knowing his childe would not make an accusation without proof.  
  
"You've heard of the murders happening in Burton Park?" Sonny asked, glancing nervously at Isolde.  
  
"Indeed I have. One was committed in front the cemetery I favor. Do you have reason to think this killer is one of the Kindred?" Isolde curled herself into a corner chair, leaning into the small amount of darkness the room provided.  
  
To Sonny, it appeared as though she had stolen the shadows from the corners and wrapped her self in them, hiding her true self from prying eyes. "There was another committed last night. Only this time, we had a witness. He saw the perpetrator leave the park. His description sounds very like it might have been a Nosferatu."  
  
"None of my clan has broken the Masquerade." A voice from the shadows protested. Daedalus, Primogen of the Nosferatu clan and advisor to the Prince stepped into the light. His deep-set eyes were troubled as he looked down on the vampire detective.  
  
"Are you sure? Since Goth's death, some of your clan has been restless under your control. Perhaps they seek to throw off the perceived shackles of the Masquerade. Perhaps some think they can aspire to the power that Goth once had by performing the same bloody rituals." Isolde turned to face the vampire that towered over her. Her eyes, which normally looked upon him with love, stared expressionlessly at him.  
  
"I've arranged to be assigned to the task force investigating the murders. A Detective Frank Carmack heads it. He's a good cop, smart and determined. If anyone can find out who's behind this, he will. And that could be a problem for us. Word is Carmack has some pretty connected friends at the Luna Foundation." Sonny noticed the quick look that passed between Julian and Isolde. Something about the Luna Foundation troubled them, almost as much as the idea of a break in the Masquerade.  
  
"Well, I did think we'd see the Legacy Hunters again. I just didn't expect it to be this soon." Isolde moved to stand behind her Prince, one graceful hand falling on his shoulder. "I think it behooves us to look into this matter, My Prince. As your Archon and your Enforcer, I feel the burden must fall on me."  
  
Julian nodded his agreement. "Agreed. Sonny, arrange for any information to be funneled here to Isolde. She will track this possible Kindred connection and repair the breech in the Masquerade."  
  
"Sire, it is my clan that stands accused." Daedalus stood cold and unflinching before his Prince's sympathetic gaze. "This task should fall to me."  
  
"Daedalus, I understand your need to clear your clan's name, but Isolde can move among the human population without attracting the wrong kind of attention. You can not." Julian looked up at the woman standing behind him and made a decision he hoped he wouldn't regret. "Isolde will perform the investigation. You will question your clan and pass any information they may have on to her. But if it becomes apparent that one of them is responsible for this."  
  
"Then I will send them to Final Death with my own hands, my Prince." The Nosferatu replied, stepping back into the shadows and leaving the three Ventrue to their thoughts.  
  
Pt. 4  
  
The next after noon found Nick seated at the computer in the Control room, watching the monitor with a thoughtful frown. Nothing about this case screamed "Supernatural" to him, nothing except Derek's vision of evil. The files that Carmack had brought over had been sparse at best, mostly crime scene reports, photos and some forensics analysis. Nothing that the police had found could explain why these four men had been targeted. They hadn't even seemed to know one another. One of the two who had been listed, as being with the San Francisco Ballet Company actually hadn't been part of the troupe. He had been hired the day before he was killed. Until then, he had been teaching ballet in a small town down the coast while he attended school.  
  
The files on Detective Toussaint had been equally uninformative. The man had joined the police force some years before and had a good service record. There had been little on his personal life but Nick was sure that, given the background checks the police force had probably done on the man, if there had been anything unusual about him it would have turned up by now. With a sigh he turned back to the reports on the murders, laying aside his search for the detective's past.  
  
"Nothing linking them together except that they were dancers." Nick muttered, flipping through a folder. He scanned a list of contents of the last victim's knapsack, trying to find something out of the ordinary. Suddenly he saw an item that looked familiar. A playbill for a performance of a private ballet company. Nick grabbed the files relating to the first victim and leafed through it, looking for something he had seen in its contents. "I know it's here." He murmured, rummaging through the paperwork. "Got it!"  
  
"Got what?" Derek asked, as he stepped through the holograph.  
  
"Maybe nothing or maybe a connection between victims one and two. Both of them had a program from a performance of "The Fairy Queen" presented by the Collins repertoire company."  
  
"Collins? Joshua Collins?" Derek looked at the two lists with interest. "I've heard he's one of the hottest young choreographers in the country."  
  
"Maybe we should talk with this guy, see if he can tell us anything."  
  
"And maybe it's just a coincidence that both men attended the ballet. They were professional dancers. Maybe they were there to get a feel for the competition." Derek stared at the list intently, his vision still fresh in his mind. "At any rate, it's all we have. I have a friend on the Arts Commission. I'll see if he can introduce me."  
  
"Why not let Carmack talk to him?" Nick asked, puzzled.  
  
"From what I've heard, Collins is a very private man with many influential friends. He might not take kindly to police poking around his company." Derek started out the door then turned and looked back at his young friend quizzically. "Are you coming?"  
  
"Nah, I think I'll go talk to Francis. She should have the rest of the forensics reports in by now. Maybe she can tell me something more about our attacker from evidence left at the scene."  
  
"Call me if you find out anything." Derek replied, then stepped through the holograph, disappearing from view, leaving Nick to his thoughts.  
  
--  
  
Isolde sat in Julian's study, examining the police files Sonny had managed to send to her. The photos from the crime scene, while not the bloodiest she had ever seen, were still disturbing. Whoever had killed these men had played with them first, like a cat plays with a mouse before devouring it. There were gaping wounds where a clawed hand had batted the unfortunate victim from place to place before finally, mercifully breaking his neck. "This doesn't look good." She thought to herself. "Even if it isn't a Nosferatu it's still a danger to us, brining too much attention to the darkness we must live in." She tossed the photo on the desk with a sign and leaned back in Julian's chair with a sigh.  
  
"I see you've made yourself at home." a sarcastic voice called from the doorway. Lillie Langtry, Toreador primogen and Julian's on-again, off-again lover leaned in the entranceway, a frown marring her beautiful, undead face.  
  
"Is there something you want, Lillie?" Isode asked with a frown, lifting one of the files closer to read in the dim light.  
  
"Does Julian know you're in his study? Using his things like they belonged to you?" Lillie asked sauntering into the room.  
  
"I wasn't aware what I did was any of your concern." Isolde replied. Her bright eyes darted across the page, mentally comparing it to what she had read from the previous crimes. There was no mistake. Both men had been to the same performance of "The Fairy Queen".  
  
"Julian may not see what you're plotting but I do." The lovely Toreador vampire leaned across the desk, her cold eyes fixed on the vampire in front of her. "Your sire wants to control the city. What better way to do that then to control the Prince? And who better to be Prince than his own childe?"  
  
"You really must stop watching those soap operas, Lillie." Isolde replied wryly. "They're beginning to make you paranoid. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." She turned the chair to face the window, effectively dismissing the woman behind her. Isolde listened with a smile as Lillie stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. "Now, what was the name of that dance company again? Oh yes, the Collins repertory. Well, I always did love the ballet." She rose gracefully from her chair and hurried up the stairs, planning her night's activities as she went. Behind her, a shadow moved from the darkness to the desk, one strong hand slowly leafing through the files she had left behind.  
  
Pt. 5  
  
Joshua Collins pushed his fine, blond hair back from his face and grimaced in frustration. The dance class he had agreed to conduct was turning out as he had feared. He had been running them through a basic set of drills for the past hour and was quickly coming to the end of his limited patience. They were like any other group of students he had dealt with. Some were more talented than others, but as a whole, none were remarkable. He stalked around the young dancers, prodding at arms bent at the wrong angle and legs not turned out properly. "Just because you people are in the back row is no excuse for sloppy turn-out." He grated, turning his back on the now chastened performers.  
  
"Mr. Collins, they can't be expected to be perfect. They're just students." Lola Rogers, the class's regular teacher, protested.  
  
"I'm not expecting them to be perfect." Joshua replied wearily. "I'm expecting them to try for perfection. If they don't know what to try for, how will they ever know when they've achieved it?" He motioned to the woman at the piano to continue to play then started across the floor in a series of grand jetes. The dancer seemed to almost levitate off the floor as he leaped and turned in time to the music. He stopped with a flourish as he reached the other side of the room and looked back at the students. "Now that's how it's suppose to be done. So let's try it again, shall we? From the top."  
  
The door to the practice hall opened cautiously as Joshua's driver looked in on his employer. "Mr. Collins? There's a phone call for you." He held out a cell phone warily.  
  
Joshua motioned the dancers to keep practicing as he reached for the phone. "Yes? Oh, hello Marcus, what can I do for you?" He walked outside of the practice room, pacing in the hall as he held the receiver to his ear.  
  
"You can stop torturing the kiddies for a while and come to lunch with me." the voice at the other end of the line replied with amusement. "I have someone I want you to meet. His name is Derek Rayne and he's with the Luna Foundation, a very interesting non-profit organization. He's very anxious to meet with you."  
  
  
  
"Not another society type! I've had my fill of pretending to find those sorts fascinating just to be polite." Joshua gritted his teeth, trying not to sound too annoyed with his business manager, Marcus Cole. The old man had taken care of his finances for many years and was a good and loyal friend. But sometimes his single-minded pursuit of sponsors for the troupe grated on Joshua's intense need for privacy.  
  
"Joshua, do try to be polite. Even if you're not interested in a new patron, I am. Someone has to see that your bills get paid."  
  
"That is hardly a problem these days, is it old man? Oh, very well. I'll meet you at the Flying Dutchman at one. See to it your friend isn't late." Joshua clicked off before his manager could protest. As he walked back to the practice, the headline on a discarded newspaper caught his eye. He quickly read through the description of the latest murder in the park, a frown forming on his narrow face. With a quick turn, he bound out to his car, motioning his driver to catch up.  
  
"Are we going somewhere?" the driver asked, diving into his seat as his passenger slammed shut the rear door.  
  
"Yes, back to the hotel. And make it quick." Joshua sank down into the limousine's back seat, his mind racing furiously. The paper had given few details about the method used to kill these men, but Joshua had a sinking feeling he already knew the way they had died. And it wouldn't be long before the police would come knocking on his door, asking questions he could not answer. "I knew I shouldn't have left Collinwood." He muttered, watching the city fly by.  
  
Pt. 6  
  
Nick wrinkled his nose at the smell coming from the Morgue. No matter how pristine the area was kept, no matter how much air freshener and antiseptic soap was used, he could always detect the smell of death coming from behind the doors. "So what have you got for me?" he asked the pretty blond in front of him.  
  
Francis smiled warmly at him. As Coroner, she had long ago gotten over dealing with the smell of her workplace and most of the horrors that came with it. But she was also acutely aware of the discomfort others felt when they entered her domain. "I'm glad you came in when you did Nick. The results on some tissue samples we got from under the latest victim's nails just came in. It's really weird. When I read the reports, the first thing I thought about was you."  
  
"Gee, thanks!" Nick replied, dryly.  
  
"You're welcome." Francis responded, opening a folder and laying out its contents. "Anyway, whatever this poor man scratched, it wasn't another person. Cells were a mixture of plant cells, sulfur and some things something we couldn't identify."  
  
"Plant cells?' Nick asked, looking down at the report.  
  
"Yeah, looks like what we got from under his finger nails was traces of a rotting plant. The police told me he had been dragged a distance before he was killed, so I'm assuming that's where it came from. But the sulfur is interesting. Where in the park could he have gotten that?"  
  
Nick looked down at the report with a frown. "I'm not sure. Can I get a copy of this? I'd like to run it past some people, see if they have any ideas."  
  
"Sure, Nick." As she turned to go, the swinging doors opened. "Oh, hi Sonny! Come for a copy of the test results?"  
  
"Yeah, I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd take it with me back to the office. Who's your friend"?  
  
"Detective Sonny Toussaint, this is Nick Boyle. He's a friend of your task force team mate, Frank Carmack."  
  
Sonny held out a hand warily, wondering if this was one of the members of the Luna Foundation his Prince was concerned about. "Nice to meet you."  
  
"Yeah, same here." Nick replied, shaking the detective's hand briefly.  
  
"I'm surprised to see you here at this hour Sonny." Francis commented, gathering up her reports. "Aren't you always on the night shift?"  
  
"Like I said, I was in the neighborhood. Can't sleep much thinking about these homicides." Sonny took the folder from the woman's hand and tucked it under his arm. "Listen, thanks for these. I'll give them to Frank as soon as I get up there. Nice meeting you Mr. Boyle." With a parting wave, the detective sauntered out of the Morgue, wondering what the young man he had just met would have thought if he had known he had just shaken hands with a vampire.  
  
"Don't worry Nick, I keep a duplicate of everything for my records. I'll run off a copy of those reports for you in just a few minutes. Just wait here." With that Francis moved quickly into her office, leaving Nick to consider the results of those tests.  
  
Pt. 7  
  
Derek glanced down at his watch for the third time, wondering what was keeping Marcus Cole and the elusive Joshua Collins. His friend on the Arts commission had been glad to make an introduction for him, suggesting happily that the Luna foundation might be interested in supporting the young dancer's company. Cole had seemed interested at the time and had promised to bring his temperamental young client with him to the meeting. They had arranged for a late lunch on the waterfront. But now, both men were over an hour late.  
  
"Can I get you anything else?" the waitress asked, materializing at his side.  
  
"No, thank you. Just my bill." Derek frowned at the information he had been reading in preparation for meeting with the two men. Joshua Collins had burst onto the ballet scene over a year ago, choreographing and starring in a new production based on an ancient English folk tale. Reviewers had raved that the young dancer was the "next Barishnikov". Yet strangely none of them could say for certain where this budding young genius had been before his premier in Boston. The only thing that the Legacy computer's had been able to establish was that he owned a home in a small fishing village called Collinsport, Maine. This village, according to the databanks had an extensive occult reputation, with legends of vampire deaths and werewolf sightings abounding through the archives. And most of the stories had revolved around the most prominent family in the town - the Collins family.  
  
"Mr. Rayne?" a voice asked. Derek looked up startled to see an elderly man standing in front of his table. "You are Derek Rayne, I presume?"  
  
"Mr. Cole?" Derek replied hesitantly.  
  
"Yes. Marcus to my friends." The older man held out a hand in greeting, allowing Derek to get a better look at him. Marcus Cole was in his early sixties, with graying hair and bright blue eyes. His British accent and tweed coat reminded Derek of one of his favorite professors at Oxford, a man renowned as much for his absent mindedness as his knowledge of ancient cultures.  
  
"I was beginning to think you weren't coming. Please have a seat." Derek shook the man's hand then motioned to the waitress to bring a menu. "Your friend Mr. Collins isn't with you?"  
  
"No, I expected to meet him here. But then, I'm not surprised he's late. That young man will be late to his own funeral." Marcus took the menu from the waitress with a smile. "I'm not much better today. Business meetings with the ballet's backers took forever. I'm afraid I won't be able to stay long, since I promised Joshua I would attend tonight's performance."  
  
"I've heard the ballet is quite beautiful." Derek gently laid his menu over his files, and then smiled back at the older man. "Is this your first trip to San Francisco?"  
  
"Actually, no. Joshua and I were here last year to audition some new dancers for his troupe. Joshua, I believe, spent some time here as a boy so he has a fondness for the area and it's people."  
  
"Really? Well, that would explain why he would want dancers from this area instead of from Boston or New York." Derek replied, mentally making a note to have Nick check up on this trip.  
  
"I think Joshua just doesn't like the "old school" attitude of the dance masters on the East Coast. He's a very progressive thinker, very modern. That doesn't always set well with the more established repertory companies." Marcus took a sip of his water then eyed the man across from him shrewdly. "Our mutual friend said your Luna Foundation might be interested in sponsoring the company. I'm hopeful that I can provide you with any information you would need to make this decision."  
  
Derek thought for a moment then smiled. "Well, I really think I need to meet with the creative side of this enterprise before I can submit this suggestion to the Foundation. I was planning on attending the ballet tonight. Perhaps you could arrange for me to meet with Mr. Collins after the performance?"  
  
"Oh, I'm not sure that will work. Joshua has a very strict schedule he follows before and after a performance. He's rather the reclusive sort, doesn't like to meet with anyone until he's had a chance to decompress as he puts it." Marcus looked down at this watch with a start. "Oh dear, I've really got to run. Let me talk to Joshua and see what I can arrange. Perhaps I can get him to make an exception for you. I'm so sorry to be cutting this meeting off so quickly but I really must fly." With that the older man all but leapt from his chair and trotted off in search of a cab, leaving Derek to contemplate the outcome of his meeting.  
  
--  
  
Daedalus walked the tunnels under the city somberly, reviewing what he had read in the files in Julian's office. His heart told him that the murder could not be one of his clan, yet Isolde's words had struck his soul. He had heard the whispering after her arrival, the comments made when the clan thought he was not near. His relationship with the young Ventrue Prince had always been a source of awkwardness for him among the other Nosferatu, but it had never been an overwhelming obstacle to his leadership of the clan. Then Goth, the renegade Nosferatu, and his mate had returned and tried to stir the clan to rise up against the other vampires, to use the blood rites to win back powers they had not wielded in ages. Julian's victory over the outcast had quieted the outward discontent but the murmuring had continued in the shadows, quiet grievances against a Prince of another clan who had been good to them. The murmuring had grown even louder when Isolde had arrived and been named Primogen of the Ventrue clan and the Prince's enforcer. Even those who had not found fault with his friendship with the young Prince looked in askance at him now because of his feelings for the woman whom many were calling the Ventrue Dark Angel. If these murders were committed by one of his own clan, Daedalus knew to keep the peace among the vampire community it must be his own hand that struck down the killer. Yet he feared that if it was one of his own, there might be others inclined to see his meeting out of justice as simply one more betrayal of their clan by one who cared more for the Ventrue clan than his own.  
  
"You seemed most distressed this night, my old friend." A deep voice called out from the shadows. A dark figure shuffled out into the dim light, looking up at the tall figure of the Nosferatu Primogen with deep set, vivid blue eyes. Karn was one of the oldest of the clan to live underground in the city. He was misshapen, as were most of his clan, with a hunchback and clawed hands. Yet his eyes were kind and his heart was tender, with a regard for all living things. It was to Karn that Daedalus had turned for advice when Goth had tried to turn the other vampires of his kind against him. And it was to Karn he must turn again in his search for a killer.  
  
"You've heard about the murders occurring in the city." Daedalus asked, looking down at his friend with troubled eyes.  
  
"Which ones? It seems that there are more and more of cases of murder occurring among the human population each day. I always wonder how they can fear us so when it is more likely that one of their own will kill them then one of ours."  
  
"There have been four, all by the same hand. A witness to the last murder has said the killer he saw was misshapen, a devil."  
  
Karn frowned, the action making his hideous face even more grotesque. "And the young Prince fears it is one of our clan?"  
  
"Perhaps. I must know all you can find about a man named Joshua Collins. Two of the murdered men had attended a ballet his troupe was performing here in the city."  
  
"Collins?" Karn mused, turning the name over in his mind. "Where have I heard that name before? It was recently, I'm sure of it. Give me a few hours and I will see what I can find." The elderly vampire shuffled off in the direction of his Haven - a small niche under one of the cities tallest buildings where he could tap into the Internet and surf the Web. Like most Nosferatu, Karn had a taste for acquiring knowledge and had embraced this new technology with a vengeance, becoming an expert in finding information on-line.  
  
Daedalous watched his friend disappear into the shadows with a troubled frown. Isolde had also seen circumstantial evidence linking the victims to this Collins person and his dancers. She would not waste much time in investigating the link. He prayed that Kahn would be equally swift.  
  
--  
  
Nick knocked tentatively on the glass door of the police task force, nudging it open with his foot. "Any one home?"  
  
"Just us." Carmack called out, laying down the forensics report he had been going over with Sonny. "Nick, nice of you to drop on by. Have you met Detective Sonny Toussaint? He's working with the task force temporarily."  
  
"We met at the Morgue." Nick replied, reaching out to shake the other man's hand. "Listen Frank, Derek and I may have found something that links two of your victims together. It's not much but maybe it's a place to start." He stopped, noticing the puzzled look that Toussaint was giving his friend.  
  
Carmack also noticed the look. "Nick and his friend Dr. Derek Rayne work for the Luna foundation. They are acting as consultants on this case. So what did you two find out?"  
  
"Two of your victims were at the same ballet, the Fairy Queen, put on by the Collins Ballet troupe. It's not much but like I said, maybe it's a start."  
  
"Maybe they just liked the ballet. Or maybe they were checking out the competition. After all, the victims were dancers." Sonny remarked, trying not to sound dismissive.  
  
"Maybe." Nick agreed, knowing that the information sounded lame. The ringing sound of his cell phone saved him from having to admit his doubts. "Boyle here. Yeah Derek, what did you find out?" He listened intently to his friend's words for a few moments then glanced up at the two detectives. "I'm with Frank right now. Maybe he can run a check on this guy, see where it leads. See you at the house later."  
  
"Derek find out something new?" Frank asked, watching the young man thoughtfully fold up his receiver.  
  
"Yeah, the head of the ballet troupe your victims went to see, Joshua Collins, has a link to the city. Seems he was here a year ago, auditioning dancers for his troupe. Maybe that's why these two guys went to this particular performance. Because they had auditioned for the guy when he was last in the city."  
  
"That still doesn't mean that the troupe or this dancer is involved in the murders. You haven't even linked all the victims to this performance." Sonny argued, wondering silently how he was going to get this information back to Isolde and Julian.  
  
"Probably not. But like I said, it's a place to begin. If we can link the other two victims to this guy then we have a way to predict who the next victim will be." Nick started out the door, his face grim. "Derek's going to the ballet tonight. I'll call you if he finds out anything more." The door closed with a bang as the Legacy security chief charged down the hall, leaving the two policemen behind him to contemplate the information he had just left them.  
  
Pt. 8  
  
Night came to the city, covering its inhabitants in its soft, dark embrace. At the pavilion, the cast of the "Fairy Queen" prepared to meet their public. The Collins dance troupe bustled quickly around their small changing area, in the rear of the performance hall, occasionally glancing at the closed door that separated them from their leader. The troupe drew not only inspiration for new performances from their mercurial young director, but much of their emotional strength as well. It was Joshua who was the glue that held the group together, who fought to produce the ancient legends as ballets for the worlds consumption when most troupes were performing modernistic sketches instead. It was Joshua who had encouraged each of them in their quest for perfection of their art, when others said they were too tall or too old or too heavy. He was their rock, their stability. But tonight, that rock seemed fragile and unreachable.  
  
"Roger, I really could care less about what your business manager said. I need to speak to Barnabas. Could you have Willie please go to the Old House and get him?" Joshua asked for the third time. Talking to his distant cousin Roger Collins was frustrating on good days. Today was definitely not one of those days.  
  
"Oh very well. I'll have him call you as soon as he gets here. Can you at least have your manager call me back so that I can talk to someone with some sense of responsibility about these figures?" Rodger's peevish voice echoed through the phone, grating on the dancers last remaining nerves.  
  
"Fine. Cole will contact you in the morning. Good-bye Roger." Joshua barely restrained himself from slamming the phone back into its cradle, knowing it would only serve to annoy the all ready upset man.  
  
"Roger being fussy again?" Marcus's amused voice sounded from the dressing room door. The older man stepped warily into the room, taking stock of his employer's mood.  
  
"When isn't he fussy?" Joshua asked with a sigh. He reached behind him and snagged the morning paper from the dressing table. "Seen this?"  
  
"Seen what?" Marcus took the page and scanned its headlines with a frown.  
  
"There's been more murders, Marcus, just like the two in Boston."  
  
"You don't know that this has anything to do with you." Marcus protested, dropping the paper back into the other man's hands.  
  
"Like hell I don't. This list of victim's names that the paper gives could be a roster of the people who auditioned for me here in San Francisco one year ago tomorrow. Just like the two dancers in Boston. Someone is working their way through my audition list and killing the men I didn't chose for this troupe."  
  
"You're sure of this?" Marcus's voice was soothing, but his doubts were plain to see.  
  
"After all these years, old friend, you should know me better than to ask that. I recognized the first man to die from other auditions I had attended. When the second man died, I realized I knew his name too, but couldn't remember from where. Then, when we were packing to go, I found the sign-up sheet from that first audition in Frisco. Both men were on it."  
  
"It could have been a coincidence." Marcus replied, a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.  
  
"One might have been coincidence. Two was stretching it. But all six victims? They're all on my sheet, Marcus. All of them were there that night."  
  
A light tap on the door interrupted the tense conversation. "Mr. Collins? There's a Mr. Rayne here to see you?"  
  
Joshua looked up at his business manager quizzically. "Isn't that who you wanted me to meet for lunch?"  
  
"Yes, I mentioned I would try to get you to talk to him about funding for the troupe. He must have decided to take the matter into his own hands." Marcus stared at the door suspiciously, debating his next move. "Perhaps you shouldn't see him right now."  
  
"Oh hell, Marcus, let him in. It's not like I can do anything about these killings now. And the group does need some fresh blood."  
  
"That's not very amusing." Marcus remarked, fingering his neck.  
  
"Sorry, didn't mean it that way." Joshua replied, his brown eyes weary. "Please come in Mr. Rayne!" he called out, never stirring from his chair.  
  
Derek entered the dressing room, mentally rehearsing the story he was prepared to tell. Cole's evasiveness at lunch had not given him any hope of being introduced through traditional means to this reclusive artist, so he had chosen to proceed in a less formal manner. One call to his friend on the Arts Council had secured a pass to the backstage area and an escort to the choreographer's dressing room. Now, as he looked down at the lanky form of the dancer, draped in a black silk dressing gown, the story he had prepared seemed suddenly to fly from his mind. The force of the disorientation heralding his vision caused him to lean back against the door for support. In that recess of his mind that held his "special" sight, a tableau formed. The young man before him, dressed in early Colonial costume, was arguing with a dark haired man of approximately the same age. The second man turned suddenly on the young dancer, his face contorted. Derek watched in horror as the other man, now revealed as a vampire, advanced on the younger man. In the vision, Joshua reached out as a tall, crooked staff flew into his hand. The staff glowed with an eerie light as he pointed it at the vampire and spoke arcane words. Then suddenly the vision was gone and Derek woke to find himself staring in horror at the two men before him.  
  
"Oh great! He has the Sight!" Joshua growled, holding out his hand. From behind the sofa, the same crooked staff Derek had seen in his vision appeared, flew straight and true to its master hand.  
  
"What are you?" Derek asked coldly.  
  
"Depends. Who's asking?" the dancer replied flippantly, keeping the staff between himself and the Legacy Precept. He glanced down at Derek's hands, which were clenched at his sides. "Is that a Legacy ring on your finger?"  
  
"What's the Legacy?" Derek asked, feigning innocence.  
  
"Give it a rest, man. I've known you're kind for over two hundred years. If you're here for the staff, get in line. The Legacy has been trying to pry it out of my hands since before the Revolution."  
  
"That would be the American Revolution, isn't that correct?" Marcus asked, a note of humor creeping into his voice.  
  
"You're a creature of the night." Derek breathed, bracing himself for a fight.  
  
"Not even close." Joshua sneered. "I'm a Wanderer, a weaver of magic spells and ancient tales. The staff gives me a focus for certain "powers" which I use to further my agenda."  
  
"You don't have an agenda." Marcus commented dryly, walking over to the bar and pulling a bottle of champagne from its bucket. "You just have an attitude. Anyone for a drink? I think this is going to be a long night."  
  
--  
  
Isolde eyed the interior of the Pavilion with a jaundiced eye, noting the amount of preparation going on around her. The darkness she had pulled around her covered her from the sight of the mortals who hurried from one place to another, like worker ants busily preparing their nest. "Some things never change." She mused, remembering the sights she had seen when her sire had taken her backstage during the first performance of an up and coming young playwright named Shakespeare.  
  
"Some things are not meant to change." Julian's voice sounded at once amused and weary. It had taken all of her powers of persuasion to convince the young vampire Prince to attend the performance with her. Since his lover's departure, the Ventrue Prince had become something of a hermit, keeping close to his home and clan obligations. He had not been pleased by her insistence, yet in the end he had given in to her. It had been easier to agree than to continue the argument.  
  
"Sometimes change is good." Isolde replied, scanning the stage. "Our young choreographer isn't out and about among his people. How very strange."  
  
"Strange? Why?"  
  
"From what I've read about this man, he takes a personal interest in everything having to do with his ballet, from the position of the dancers on the stage to lighting to even the costuming. Yet here it is, on the brink of a performance, and he's nowhere to be found. I find that interesting, don't you?"  
  
"Perhaps he's in his dressing room, preparing himself for the performance. Come, the Haven isn't far from here. We can wait there until it's time for the ballet."  
  
"No, you go. I think I'll stay and keep watch. One never knows what these eyes may see that other's might miss." She stepped back into the shadows surrounding the doorway, disappearing from even Julian's vampiric sight.  
  
"Fine. Do what you want. I'll meet you back here in an hour." He called into the darkness, and then moved into the growing fog, disappearing into the night.  
  
--  
  
"So, tell me, what brings the Legacy to my little performance?" Joshua asked, playing with the champagne glass Marcus had given him.  
  
Derek frowned, ignoring the older man's offer of a drink. "How did you know I had the Sight?"  
  
"It was written all over your face. That and you were broadcasting your vision to anyone with the power to see it." Joshua smiled in remembrance. "That scene you saw was me meeting my cousin Barnabas for the first time. I'm afraid it was rather a rude shock for both of us. Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime. That is, if I let you leave this room alive."  
  
"Now Joshua, I think threats are not necessary here." Marcus began, shooting a worried look at his young employer.  
  
"I came to find out why two men died shortly after attending a performance of your ballet." Derek replied calmly, he eyes fixed on the staff. "I think I've found my answer."  
  
"Actually, you haven't." Joshua snorted, laying his drink down on the floor beside him. "But you're close. And it's more than two men connected to me that have died in that horrible way."  
  
"So you admit to being responsible for the crime?" Derek asked in a shocked tone.  
  
"Not exactly." Joshua's voice was muted and sad as he looked back at the Legacy member he held at bay. "I didn't kill them. But I think I know why they died. And if I'm right, there's going to be more deaths in the city fairly soon. Including, I'm afraid, my own."  
  
Pt. 9  
  
"Perhaps Mr. Rayne's group can help protect you from this madman." Marcus mused, slowly twisting long stem of the glass he was holding between his fingers.  
  
"Ask the Legacy for help?" Joshua scoffed; his eyes suddenly alight with amusement. "These guys have been trying to hunt me down for centuries."  
  
"Well, perhaps it's because they don't know what you are." Marcus replied, glancing down at wooden staff propped against the chair.  
  
"What I am is pissed off that this fruit cake has decided to take his revenge out on everyone on that list, even those who had nothing to do with the original event." Joshua lightly snatched up his staff again and rose from his chair, letting the magic flow from him like a wave. He covered himself with a curtain of shimmering, shifting light as he constructed his outfit from the energy around him. When the lights dimmed, he looked down, smoothing a fold of his hooded cloak that had become tangled in the staff. "Marcus, make my apologies and cancel the performance. Keep him here. I'm going to go looking for our little "friend" and see if I can't send him back to his master in Hell." He turned on his heel and disappeared from their sight.  
  
Derek blinked, startled by what he had just seen. "What is he?" he breathed, looking at the older man for answers.  
  
Marcus sighed and motioned to the now vacant chair. "I'm not sure even he knows the answer to that. Suffice to say a long time ago, someone left him that staff and when he and it bonded it brought out powers in him that have not been seen in the world since the time of Merlin. But he's not a bad person, just a very angry one. Your people haven't helped much in that respect. I believe it was the Precept of your Mother House in London who started this little feud, deciding that he could handle the staff better than a young, arrogant artist. Julian wasn't as use to the power he could call up with the staff as he is now and things rapidly got out of hand. Relations have been rather frigid between him and your group ever since."  
  
"How long have you been with him?" Derek asked, his curiosity getting the better of his concern.  
  
"Since World War II. My parents were part of the French Resistance movement. One day Father and his associates blew up a munitions convey. The next day the Nazi's rolled into our village and rounded up all the man and boys and locked us in the church. Then they set fire to it and proceeded to shoot anyone who tried to escape. Somehow my father managed to boost me out of a small window before he was shot and I made a run for the river. A soldier saw me and started to take aim when I suddenly heard him fall to the ground with a resounding thump. I looked back and this figure in a black robe was standing over him, poking at him with that crooked staff. It was Joshua, of course. He had been in the area with another resistance unit and had gotten separated. Lucky for me he did. He managed to get both my mother and myself shipped off to London where I attended all the finest schools and eventually became his business manager and companion. So you see, Mr. Rayne, despite his prickly exterior, Joshua is quite a good chap."  
  
Derek smiled at the understatement. "Why does he think someone is trying to kill him?"  
  
"Not just him. Everyone who was at that first audition we held here a year ago. There was an incident, and both Joshua and I have come to believe that the fallout from that event may be what is driving these murders. Funny thing, it started as such a nice, quiet audition."  
  
--  
  
Nick pulled into the only available parking slot for blocks around the scene of the last murder and hopped out, locking the door behind him. The mist from the bay had rolled in early, covering the ground with a blanket of mist, making the park look like a set from a bad Hammer film. He peered down the darkened path in front of him, expecting Christopher Lee to jump out of the shadows at any second. "I've got to stop watching those all night horror movie festivals." He muttered to himself, pulling the collar of his coat closer.  
  
"What are you hoping to find out here?" a voice called out from the street. Nick whirled around in surprise to see Sonny strolling nonchalantly out of a doorway.  
  
"What are you doing here?" Nick asked suspiciously.  
  
"Keeping an eye on you." Sonny replied cheerfully. "Actually, we got some information on that dancer you came to tell us about and I figured you might want to hear it."  
  
"How did you find me?"  
  
Sonny shrugged, pulling a file from under his arm. "Dumb luck. I thought you might want to get a feel for the crime by seeing the area it was committed in and since this is where the latest murder occurred, I figured it was as good a place to start as any." He glanced away, watching the shadow of the nearby Gangrel he had borrowed from Cash fade into the darkness. It had been a spur of the moment decision, asking the leader of the one of the other vampire clans to follow the human. But, Sonny reasoned, Julian had been as interested in the Legacy's involvement in the investigation as in the case itself. This way, he could keep up with Frank and the police investigation as well as keep tabs on the other players in this little melodrama.  
  
"So what did you find out?" Nick asked, keeping his suspicions to himself. Visiting the crime scene had been an impulse, certainly not something he would have predicted for himself especially not at night. It seemed too much of a coincidence that the cop had made a lucky guess.  
  
"Seems Mr. Collins's company attracts dead bodies. We ran a search on a nation wide database, trying to match our killers MO and found that two identical murders had occurred in Boston about the time this ballet opened there. Same profile on the victims - young, male dancers. And one other thing, they were killed shortly after attending a performance of the Collins Ballet troupe." Sonny handed the files to the other man, motioning them to stand under the one still functioning street lamp inside the park.  
  
Nick took the file and leafed through the printouts, looking for any mention of rotting vegetation. "Guy has a real taste for playing with his victims before he kills them, doesn't he?"  
  
A soft sound behind Nick caught Sonny's ultra-sensitive hearing. He glanced into the shadows, his eyes widening. "Nick, what's seven foot tall, has claws for hands and a rotting pumpkin with fangs for a head?"  
  
"I don't know. What?" Nick asked, a cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. He slowly reached for the gun in his holster, noting that Sonny was doing the same.  
  
"I don't know either, but it's about ten yards behind you and closing fast. Run!!!"  
  
Pt. 10  
  
"About a year ago, Joshua had the idea for this ballet "The Fairy Queen". Now you must understand, when he chooses performers for a ballet, he has very specific criteria in mind. They must not only be excellent dancers, but also look right in the parts they are to portray. He has a fondness for the Bay area and so he decided to look for people to fill out the troupe here." Marcus tipped the last of the champagne from the bottle into his glass and looked up wearily at Derek, who hadn't moved from the door. "Do sit down, Mr. Rayne. Unlike my young friend, I'm relatively harmless."  
  
Derek smiled, despite himself. He pulled a chair close and settled himself into it. "What has this ballet got to do with the murders?"  
  
"There was an unfortunate incident the last night of the open auditions. A young girl signed in with her boyfriend. At least, we all assumed that's who he must have been. She was a sweet thing, but frankly she had two left feet. I think she was self-taught, not necessarily a bad thing but the poor dear had no rhythm. She just wasn't much of a dancer and I'm afraid that some of the other participants might have been quite cruel in their comments. She ran off the stage after only a few moments, sobbing. Joshua and I ran after her and found that cad of a boyfriend beating her within an inch of her life. Seems he felt her poor performance might reflect badly on him, lessening his chances for a spot in the troupe."  
  
Derek winced, imaging the scene. "What was Joshua's reaction?"  
  
"My friend puts on the appearance of a very hard character but in reality he's rather a soft touch, especially when it comes to those who can't defend themselves. He personally tossed the villain out into the street and told him in no uncertain terms that he would insure that the man never found work in any dance company, anytime and anywhere. I tried to help the poor girl, but she just ran out sobbing after her friend and we never saw them again. A few days later there was an article buried in the back section of the newspaper, a story about a young woman found dead of an overdose in some seedy hotel down near the docks."  
  
"It was the young girl you tried to help." Derek finished, his voice carefully controlled.  
  
"Yes. Poor thing. The police said it was suicide. Seems her boyfriend threw her out into the street after that little row. She couldn't go home because her father was some sort of fundamentalist preacher who had claimed she was condemned to Hell for flaunting her body in the ballet and for fornicating with her boyfriend. The child had nowhere to go, no options. I suppose death was less painful at that point then life."  
  
"Was that when the murders started to occur?"  
  
"No. Not for almost a year. Then, when the ballet opened in Boston, we received anonymous notes claiming that God would be visiting his punishment upon the sinners responsible for this girl's death. Joshua laughed it off at first. He has little patience with these fundamentalist sorts. But when the two men in Boston were killed after attending the ballet, Joshua became concerned. He has a photographic memory, you see, remembers names and faces even from two hundred years ago. But of course, we couldn't just rely on that so he dug out the signup sheet we had from that night. Joshua's something of a packrat keeps everything. We were able to match the victim's names from the newspaper to that sheet. That's when it became a serious concern."  
  
"Did you tell the Boston police what you suspected?" Derek asked.  
  
"I did. But they said it was all a coincidence. Both the men who died had been inside getting ready for the audition when the incident occurred. There was no reason to target them. They assumed that we were making more of it than was necessary as some sort of ploy for publicity. That infuriated Joshua so much that he closed down the production and moved it lock, stock and barrel here. Unfortunately, it seems to have followed us." Marcus rose awkwardly from his seat, wincing at his creaking joints. "I really must get the troupe prepared for the fact that their opening night has been cancelled."  
  
Both men started at the shrill sound of the phone ringing on the table. Marcus reached out and punched the audio button. "Yes?"  
  
"Marcus? Where is my cousin?" a very deep, British voice asked, the sound of static crackling through the line.  
  
"Barnabas? Oh blast, he did call you, didn't he? I'm afraid he stepped out. I'll have him call you as soon."  
  
  
  
"What has that young fool gotten himself into this time?" the man asked, exasperated.  
  
"Nothing, really. I'll have him call you as soon as he gets back." Marcus hung up quickly, casting a furtive glance at his guest. "So sorry, old man. Barnabas is rather a unique individual and sometimes acts as a sounding board for Joshua when he wants to talk. He'll call back later."  
  
"Can you give me the names of the young girl who died that night? Perhaps the Legacy can trace her family or her boyfriend, see if they might be behind some of this madness." Derek replied, filing the name of Joshua's cousin away for later research. The man in the vision had been a vampire, of that he was sure, but Marcus seemed almost unconcerned by that knowledge. He would have to find a way to question the old man later on the subject.  
  
"Yes, I believe she signed in that night as Melody Love. Poor child had no imagination in her choice of stage names. I think that the newspaper article gave her real name as Melody Danvers." Marcus motioned towards the closed door with a sigh. "Now I really must go. Please, if you find out anything, call me. Joshua may be a pain some days but overall he's a good man. He doesn't deserve this heartache."  
  
Derek nodded solemnly and followed the old man out into the hall. Neither man noticed the shadowy form that seemed to materialize behind them. Isolde smiled a secret smile and reviewed the conversation she had just heard. "So, our young dancer has an enemy. How very interesting! I wonder where he went to." She glanced curiously into the dressing room, knowing from the tone of the conversation that Joshua Collins was gone. "If I didn't know better I'd swear the boy was a Tremaire. But that particular clan of magic- wielding vampires wouldn't dare show their faces here. Or would they? That cousin's name, Barnabas, is very familiar." She wondered about it for a moment, and then shrugged, filing it away for future study. "Oh well, I'd best catch up with Julian." She moved swiftly down the hall and out into the night.  
  
--  
  
Barnabas stared at the phone in his hand in shock. "He hung up on me!" he growled, slamming the receiver into place.  
  
"Who did boss?" Willie Lomax asked, looking up fearfully at his employer.  
  
"Joshua's manager, Marcus. My cousin must be in trouble. Why else would he have called looking for me?"  
  
Willie thought about that statement for a moment, wondering if he dare risk telling the agitated vampire the truth. "Maybe he just wanted to talk?" he suggested, backing up as the words left his mouth.  
  
Barnabas stared at him in disbelief. "Somehow I doubt that. Willie, find a night flight for me to San Francisco. We're going to see what my young cousin has gotten himself into this time." The vampire stormed out of the house, disappearing into the mist surrounding the mansion, leaving his servant to contemplate the complexities of cross-country travel with a vampire.  
  
Pt. 11  
  
Nick didn't hesitate, darting forward in a dead run as he heard the sound of the creature crashing towards them. The two men split up immediately, Sonny dashing down the street to the right in the direction of a dark, older-model sedan. Nick ran left, not risking a look behind him as he ran. He all but leaped into the driver's seat of his convertible, starting the engine almost before he had completely into the seat. It was only then that he got his first look at the thing that had leaped out of the shadows at them.  
  
The creature was a nightmarish mix of man and animal, standing well over seven feet tall. The sharp claws where were evident at the end of it's long arms were dark and broken, encrusted with dirt and other matter. It stood on two legs and had the vague shape of a man. But its head was something else again. Sonny had called it a "pumpkin" and to some extent it did resemble the rotting husk of that large orange fruit. But there was also something human about the distorted features that leered at Nick from in front of the car. Its eyes were blazing with a mix of intelligence and malice. These were not animal's eyes but the eyes of a madman - or a demon raised by a madman.  
  
"Somehow I don't think a gun's going to work on this one either." Nick thought, slamming his car into reverse and pulling a fast U-turn in the middle of the street. Almost at once, Sonny and his car caught up with him, pacing him as they sped down the street. Behind him, the creature roared with anger as its prey sprinted off faster than it could pursue. He drove for almost two miles before he stopped, pulling up to the brightest streetlight he could find. Sonny pulled in behind him and stopped, hopping out of the car to stand beside Nick's car.  
  
"I've seen some pretty weird stuff in my life, but that takes the cake. Just what was that thing, anyway?" Sonny asked, glancing down the street towards the distant park.  
  
"Your guess is as good as mine, man. But I've got a hunch whatever it was, it's pretty pissed off that we got away." Nick pulled out his cell phone and dialed Derek's pager. "I'd better call my associate. Derek might have a lead on what we just saw."  
  
"You still think that dancer is involved." Sonny asked, his vampire's sight watching for any movement that would signal the creature's return.  
  
"Don't know the answer to that. Derek was suppose to talk to him before the performance." The ringing of the cell phone stopped any further speculation. "Hello? Derek! Detective Toussaint and I have seen our murder. He's definitely not a ballet dancer."  
  
"Where are you?" Derek's voice floated out of the darkness, the phone's signal sounding full of static.  
  
"A couple of miles outside of the park. It didn't follow us, though I'm not sure why." Nick watched as Sonny moved out into the middle of the street to get a better look back in the direction they had come.  
  
"Get back to the house and see if you can find anything in our databanks that matches what you saw."  
  
"What about the creature?" Nick asked softly, a frown on his face.  
  
"We can't risk an hunt for the beast until we know we have a way to kill it. I suspect it's of demonic origin, created as an instrument of revenge but until we know more, we'll just be risking the police and ourselves by hunting it. Also, I need you to look up two names for me. One is Melody Danvers. She supposedly committed suicide by drug overdose here in San Francisco about a year ago. The other name is Barnabas Collins."  
  
Nick quickly jotted the names down, wishing Alex had not chosen this time to go back to Louisiana. Everything in him screamed to go back to the park and hunt down this horror before it killed someone else. But past experience also told him that going back unprepared would be suicide. "Okay, I'll get back to you. What about our friend Mr. Joshua Collins?"  
  
"That's a long story." Derek replied, his voice fading out. "Call me as soon as you have something." A loud click signaled the end of the conversation.  
  
Nick flipped the receiver closed and motioned to the detective, who was still staring down the street. "Detective Toussaint?"  
  
"Call me Sonny." He replied absently, still watching the shadows.  
  
"Sonny, I'm going back to the Luna Foundation, see if I can run down anything about what we just saw."  
  
"Yeah, I'm going to talk to some people too, see if I can get a lead on who might have been looking for these guys. Whatever that thing was, someone had to find it's prey for it and they might have left traces I can find." Sonny dug out one of his cards and handed it to the other man. "Look, give me a call if you find anything. I've got your number back at the office so I can catch up with you if I find anything."  
  
"What are you going to tell Frank?" Nick asked, tucking the card in his pocket and gunning his motor.  
  
"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it." Sonny replied ruefully. He watched the human drive off then climbed back into his own car. "Julian's never going to believe this." He thought to himself, setting his car on the path back to his sire's estate.  
  
--  
  
Rachel stretched her legs, trying to work the cramp out of her calves. The medical conference she had attended in Portland had been long and boring and in the end had not been very informative. It hadn't taken much to convince herself to leave sooner than she had planned. The only flight she could get back to San Francisco was a night flight, which meant she would be arriving home almost at sunrise. She smiled to herself as she thought of her daughter Kat's reaction to having her mom home early for a change. "Time for a little mother-daughter bonding." She murmured.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" a voice replied from beside her. She looked up into a pair of dark brown eyes in a narrow, handsome face. The voice had a slight British accent and the man's clothes all but screamed Savoy Road. "I'm sorry but is this seat taken?"  
  
Rachel smiled and pulled her sweater off the adjoining seat. "No, please go ahead and sit down."  
  
The man smiled and took her up on the offer; first tucking silver handled walking cane in the overhead compartment. He leaned back in the seat with a sigh.  
  
"Nervous flyer?" Rachel guessed, trying to look reassuring.  
  
"Something like that." He replied, closing his eyes for a moment. "I prefer the train. Much more of an interesting journey."  
  
"Depends on where you're going." Rachel said with a smile. "Are you going to San Francisco?"  
  
"Yes, I am." He opened his eyes and looked at the woman at his side with a smile. "And you?"  
  
"Same here."  
  
"Well since we'll be shipmates as it were for a while, perhaps we should introduce ourselves."  
  
Rachel smiled at the man's courtly manners. "It's always nice to know your fellow travelers. I'm Rachel Corrigan." She held out her hand to him, mentally noticing how pale her companion appeared to be.  
  
The man took her hand in his own, cold one. "I'm Barnabas Collins."  
  
Pt. 12  
  
Derek slid his cell phone into his jacket pocket with a frown. The creature had killed six men yet it had allowed Nick and the police detective to escape. "Why not kill them as it did the others?" he thought, pulling his coat closer as he walked out of the Pavilion. "Why let them escape?"  
  
"Why let who escape?" Marcus's voice sounded tired. The older man strode wearily out of the theater, his coat on his arm.  
  
"Problems?" Derek asked, sympathetically.  
  
"Yes. The troupe is quite agitated at the cancellation of their opening night. I'm having to smooth over some very ruffled feathers."  
  
"It's unfortunate for them, of course." Derek commented. He stared at the man's lined face with concern. "You look tired. Listen, why don't you come back to the Luna Foundation with me and have a drink? I'm sure the house will be more secure than the hotel you're staying in and my associates and I still have some questions about ."  
  
"About Joshua?" Marcus smiled ruefully. "Yes, I imagine you do. Under normal circumstances I would decline the kind invitation, but tonight is definitely not a normal night. And I do think that the boy will need help to find this thing, whatever it is. So, perhaps this one time I might indulge your curiosity in return for a nightcap." He linked his arm through Derek's and started off towards the cars, both men unaware of the shadow that watched their movements with interest.  
  
--  
  
Daedalus watched the two men move off towards their car quietly, his deep- set eyes never leaving their retreating forms. He remembered the Legacy member from his brief foray into the Haven, Lilies club where both mortals and the undead mixed in peaceful if unsuspecting harmony. After that visit he had taken upon himself to research the members of the Legacy who resided in San Francisco, reasoning that it was best to know all there was to know about the enemy. This one's name he knew was Derek Rayne. He was their leader, a man of education, courage and some mystery. Rayne would be a formidable opponent if he ever were to learn of the existence of the Kindred. Daedalus prayed to whatever gods still existed that the Kine would never come for their blood. It had been centuries since the time of the Inquisition, when the Legacy, along with the Church, had nearly succeeded in destroying most of his kind. Julian, being a young Prince, had no memory of those days, but the Nosferatu Primogen did. And he swore that he would do whatever it took to prevent them from happening again.  
  
"What do you find so fascinating?" a soft voice asked from behind him. Isolde moved out of the shadows and stood beside her companion, watching the two humans disappear into the fog.  
  
"Do you not find other predators fascinating, Lady? We have hunted in the shadows for so long I find it interesting to observe those on the other side of the chase."  
  
"So long as it stays in your imagination." She replied tartly, her eyes scanning the fog. "Julian said he would meet me at the Haven. But I have other events that must be looked into. Your Nosferatu are the inquisitive kind. I would have you look for some information for me."  
  
"Karn already looks into the history of this Joshua Collins." Daedalus said quietly.  
  
"Have him look into the history of a Barnabas Collins as well. It is a name I remember from somewhere, possibly a conversation with my sire, but I cannot place it exactly. Also, there was a suicide that occurred here one year ago. A young girl by the name of Melody Danvers. I would know more about her and her family. It may be that her death is the key to these murders." Isolde started away from the larger vampire, moving with cat-like grace towards the shadows.  
  
"Where will you be if Karn finds the information you seek?" he asked, concern in his voice.  
  
"Looking for a very elusive, very mysterious young man named Joshua Collins." She replied, melding her form with the fog till all that was left was a trace of her scent in the air.  
  
Daedalus stared at the last spot he had seen her for a few moments, worry in his inhuman eyes. "Be safe my love." He murmured before he too became a part of the darkness.  
  
--  
  
Nick slid into his chair in front of the computers with a frown. The trip back to the Luna Foundation had been uneventful yet somehow he had not been able to shake the feeling that someone had been following him. He had seen no one on the road or on the ferry yet that feeling had stayed with him until he had reached the sanctuary of the house. "Great. Now I'm getting paranoid," he thought to himself as he began to plot out the search parameters he would use, setting up separate queries for the names Derek had given him. He also constructed a search through the Legacy's databanks for any phenomena that might match what he and Sonny had seen in the park. He glanced down his list with a thoughtful eye then began with the search for the phenomena.  
  
The computer soon found various folk tales that spoke of a creature raised from the depths of Hell to wreak vengeance for its master. Different cultures had different names for the being, but the description that seemed the closest to Nick was a story from the Appalachian Mountains that had been recorded by a Legacy member on vacation. He spoke of a "Pumpkin Head", raised by an old witch at the request of a grief stricken farmer. Vacationing young people had accidentally killed his son and he burned for revenge. What the witch had not told him was that in summoning the demon, he gave part of his life force to feed its existence until it finished its job. But as it killed more and more people, the farmer lost more and more of his humanity. In the end, he had killed himself in order to save a young woman and a teenage boy from the creature his anger had called up. Nick read through the descriptions given to the Legacy member by the two survivors with a sense of deja vu. "Sounds like our boy." He muttered, saving the information into a file for later study. A few keystrokes later, he was watching the computer run through his list of names, trying to find a match.  
  
The databanks again gave him what he was looking for. The newspaper clippings were sparse at best, listing Melody Danvers survivors as her father, Reverend Elias Danvers and a younger brother, Tray Danvers. The cause of death was listed as drug overdose. She had been found in a cheap hotel by the manager when a fellow tenant had complained about hearing strange noises from her room. There had been no follow-up investigation and the girl had eventually been buried in a small, now abandoned cemetery near the park where the last murder had occurred. "Nothing here that's too interesting." Nick muttered, setting up a search for the Reverend Danvers and his son.  
  
The second name on Derek's short list was much more interesting. There were only two entries under that name in the Legacy database. One was from the diary of a Legacy member from Boston from the 1700's who was investigating the activities of a certain Reverend Trask in a town called Collinsport in Maine. The diary entry claimed that Barnabas Collins had died of a strange fever and had been buried in his family's mausoleum. The Legacy member, William Jennings, noted that some local residents claimed to have seen the deceased still walking about the town after his death but he had never been able to confirm or deny their story. The family had insisted that their son had not died but had boarded a ship for England after his illness, brought about by personal grief. Jennings's own investigation had been cut short by Reverend Trask's untimely death. The second entry under the name of Barnabas Collins was a newspaper clipping from the same small town dated in the early 1990's. It was a report of an attack on a member of the Collins family by some strange animal who had savaged the girl's throat as she had tried to reach her car. The girl had died of complications from her injuries and had been buried in the family cemetery. Collins was listed as one of the family members attending the funeral.  
  
Nick frowned as he read the last entry, remembering Alex's brush with the vampire world. "Sounds too damn familiar," he thought to himself, "But what does this have to do with our killer? The crime scene reports don't show a major loss of blood. If anything, there was blood everywhere. Not a vampire's style of killing." He glanced up as the phone rang, breaking his concentration.  
  
"Nick? It's Sonny. Listen, looks like your prime suspect has disappeared. I called a friend in the same precinct as that theater and asked him to send someone over to check up on things. He just called me back and said the ballet was abruptly cancelled. My friend did a little snooping around and it turns out Mr. Collins just up and vanished from his dressing room not too much before we were attacked."  
  
"That wasn't a man who jumped us." Nick protested, punching in Joshua Collins's name into the computer.  
  
"No, but I'll bet the man knows more about the beast than we do. I've got an all points bulletin out on him. Hopefully we'll be able to find him before he skips town."  
  
"Or before he ends up the next victim." Nick replied, hanging up the receiver as the search he had just instigated came up on his monitor. There was only one entry, also from the diary of a Legacy member. It spoke of a young artist in the early Middle Ages named Joshua, one of the first members of the family who would eventually carry the family name of Collins. He had stumbled upon an item of power and had taken steps to insure certain individuals would not take that item from him. From his description, Nick could see that the persons the Legacy member spoke of were in league with the Darkness. The diary spoke vaguely of a battle and then there was nothing more. "I wonder what happened?" he thought to himself. He tried a few variations of searches, keying in the terms "magic" and "ballet" or "dancer" but nothing more was found. Nick frowned at the computer then glanced up to see his Precept walk through the holograph.  
  
"Find anything?" Derek asked, glancing up at the screen.  
  
"Maybe. I think what Sonny and I saw in the park is a constructed form inhabited by something the database calls a "Pumpkin Head". Its not a funny as the name makes out. This thing was big and mean and should have just run us both down and killed us for being in its way." Nick pulled up the file he had stored and flipped rapidly through the interviews that had been recorded. "According to this folktale, the creature kills the person it is sent after as well as anyone who tries to shield that person."  
  
"Maybe that's why it didn't go after you. You weren't the ones he was after and you weren't trying to protect its prey from its attack." Derek quickly read through the lines of text, frowning at the small amount of information they contained. "Someone called this beast up as an act of revenge."  
  
"Or justice, depending on how you look at it." Nick commented, reading the story of the boy's death again. "This guy was out of his mind with grief. He wanted to know that these punks would pay for killing his kid. Granted, he didn't pick the best way to go about it."  
  
"Nick, he called up a demon which killed indiscriminately. I hardly call that justice. Besides, from the story it looks like the boys death was an accident."  
  
"It wasn't your kid they killed, Derek. Accident or no, someone had to pay."  
  
Derek glanced away from his friend, his mind skirting away from the issue of justice versus revenge. "It seems to kill the beast we must find the person who shares their life force with it. So, what did you find out about the young woman who committed suicide?"  
  
"She had a father, a Reverend Elias Danvers and a brother named Trey. I was just about to read through the information on them when you came in." Nick glanced back at the hologram, his quick ears picking up sounds in the next room. "Did you bring someone with you?"  
  
"Yes, Marcus Cole, Joshua Collins's manager. He might be able to help us with this investigation." Derek quickly sent the files to the printer and collected the pages. "Seems He knows more about the Legacy than we know about him, a situation I hope we can remedy later on. But for right now, we need what he knows about the circumstances of this case." He disappeared through the holograph again, leaving Nick to continue the search for answers on the computer.  
  
Pt. 13  
  
Joshua moved through the mystic paths between the here and now with ease and grace. All around him the world was fuzzy and slightly off kilter, as though he were looking at the world through a funhouse mirror. The mystic road made reality an illusion and illusion a reality but it also took him where he wanted to go in no time at all. He stopped for a moment, letting the staffs energies paint a picture for him in the mist of his destination, the small park where the last murder had occurred. Two men stood on the sidewalk, talking quietly. Joshua frowned as he noticed the dark aura that surrounded one man, a sure sign that he was one of the undead. "Doesn't look like a vampire attack." He mused, watching the scene with interest. Suddenly something moved out of the shadows, a creature whose physical appearance was as terrifying as the power that surrounded it. The two men bolted almost at once, each running in a different direction. The creature stopped at the edge of the park and glared at the two men as they drove off. Then it shuffled back into the darkness, disappearing into the shadows as though it had never existed.  
  
Joshua stood for a moment, mulling over what he had just seen. "Someone called up a demon. That much I had already guessed. But who?" He considered the amount of energy it would take to see the events that had transpired the night before, when the murder had occurred. Turning back the veil of time was never easy, especially when the events to be witnessed were violent and painful. But six men had died and soon the creature or its master would turn their attentions to him. "Like it or not, I'm going to have to call up the images of the past." He mused, turning away from the park and taking another path. "Marcus is going to have a fit when he hears this." With a frown he called up the image of his friend, hoping the older man would be alone. Instead, he saw his manager talking to the man from the Legacy, Derek Rayne. They both climbed into a car and started away from the Pavilion, arriving eventually at a large, imposing mansion. With a sigh, he formed the words to light up the path that would take him to the Luna Foundation mansion and another confrontation with the Legacy.  
  
--  
  
Rachel leaned back in her seat, watching the Earth roll by her window as the plane swiftly headed back to the West Coast. Night flights were usually so tedious, with nothing to interest her outside of the window except the occasional flash of city lights. But tonight her fellow passengers offered her a chance to occupy herself during this six-hour flight. "So, Mr. Collins, will this be your first visit to San Francisco?"  
  
Barnabas looked back at her, the smile on his face not quite reaching his eyes. "Yes, I'm not much of a traveler." He glanced briefly towards the window, wincing at the thought of those last rays of the sun he had experienced in trying to catch the flight. The new serum Dr. Hoffman had begun to treat him with still left him somewhat sensitive to the sunlight. But at least he know didn't start to burn at the first hint of ultraviolet rays.  
  
"San Francisco is a lovely city. I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself."  
  
"What time did the Captain say we would be arriving?" Barnabas asked, glancing down at his ticket.  
  
"Around midnight, the witching hour." She smiled at the small joke then glanced back at the sound of clumsy footsteps approaching their seats.  
  
A young, unkempt man stopped and leaned over her traveling companion, nervously wringing his hands. "Everything okay Barnabas?" he asked, glancing worriedly in Rachel's direction.  
  
"Fine Willie, go back to your seat. I'll call you if I need you." Barnabas glared at the young man, his eyes reinforcing his words. Willie gulped and backed away, almost running over a flight attendant in his haste to return to his seat.  
  
"Who was that?" Rachel asked curiously.  
  
"My manservant Willie Lomax. He tends to be rather too concerned for my well-being."  
  
Rachel craned her neck, trying to catch sight of the man. "He seemed rather nervous." She commented.  
  
"He's not much of a traveler either."  
  
"Is this trip business or pleasure?" Rachel asked, making a mental note of her companion's pallor and almost too controlled movements. It reminded her of something or someone, though for the life of her she couldn't remember what or who.  
  
"Family business." He replied shortly, his discomfort at her scrutiny growing by the minute. Barnabas pulled open his newspaper and propped it up on the tray in front of him, effectively discontinuing the conversation. Rachel sighed and pulled out her book. It was going to be a long trip.  
  
--  
  
Isolde stepped into the Haven and stopped for a moment, the sounds and smells of the crowded nightspot almost overwhelming her vampire senses. It had taken her all of two hours to decide that her quarry wasn't anywhere her usually acute hunters eyes could find him. His sudden disappearance from his dressing room and the odd conversation she had overheard had peaked her curiosity. There were few clans among the Kindred who even believed in magic as a force, much less practiced it as an art. Only the Tremere were associated with those often Dark Arts. Yet this young dancer had not had the appearance of a Kindred. He had seemed all too human. But in the back of her mind, Isolde knew there was a connection between the missing man and her undead world. So she had returned to the Haven, hoping to speak to Julian about her speculations. She scanned the tables, quickly picking out Julian's sleek dark head bent over a sheet of paper at his favorite table. Lilly was there as well, sitting beside her former paramour with a proprietary air. "Wonderful." Isolde thought to herself. "This situation gets better and better." She strolled casually across the club, avoiding the Brujah who had taken up residence close to the bar.  
  
Julian glanced up as she approached. "I just got a call from Sonny." He said, rising to pull out her chair. "If you'll excuse us Lilly."  
  
"Is there something going on in the city the Primogen Council should know about Julian?" Lilly replied, glancing coldly at her fellow vampires.  
  
"You have a club to run. I suggest you do so." Julian's voice was stern and commanding. Lilly drew herself up and stormed away, covering her shock as best she could. It was rare when the young Prince chose to use his talent for command but when he did no one, not even a Primogen of the Clans, could disobey.  
  
"Well done, Julian. Now if only you could make the Brujah disappear so easily." Isolde smiled and slid the paper her Prince had been reading across the table towards herself. "What did Sonny have to say?"  
  
"He saw the creature and is of the opinion it is not a Nosferatu. So we should have no further interest in the case. Sonny will see to its completion."  
  
"Not so fast, my prince. There is more to this man, Joshua Collins, than we may have imagined. He may be a Tremere, one of the clan of sorcerer vampires whose existence is blight upon the Masquerade. If he is here to establish their presence."  
  
"How can you be sure of this?" Julian asked, a coldness creeping up his spine. His Sire, Archon, had warned him about the Tremere, had told him that for the sake of the fragile peace he had forged between the clans these wily undead sorcerers could not be allowed a foothold in his domain. "I wasn't even aware this dancer was one of our clans."  
  
"I can't be sure, not yet. But I overheard him speak of a Barnabas Collins, a man I seem to remember as being one of our kind. And I heard Collins's man speak to the Legacy hunter of a staff of power. Magical instruments and a relation to one of our kind do tend to make for interesting possibilities, don't you think?"  
  
"Do you believe in the tales of the magic users?" Julian scoffed, looking at his kinswoman with surprise.  
  
"I believe that it hasn't been proven not to exist." Isolde replied, lightly sliding the ashtray in front of her back at her Prince, wrinkling her nose at the smell of tobacco that wafted up from it. "As for the murder, I would not ignore the effect his actions are likely to have on us. It brings notice to the dark places, notice which may fall on us as well as the creature. For the sake of our safety and continued anonymity, we'd best see this situation through to the end."  
  
Julian reluctantly agreed. "Very well. I'll have Sonny contact you when he learns more." He rose and gallantly held out his hand. "Shall we return to the house?"  
  
"Yes." she agreed, taking his hand as she rose. "I think this little excursion has been quite interesting. We've learned much, don't you think?"  
  
"If you say so." Julian replied, leading her across the floor, oblivious to the stares following their progress.  
  
--  
  
Pt. 14  
  
Joshua stepped from the mystic path and found himself in front of the Luna Foundation mansion. He glanced appreciatively at the obvious security measures, certain there were others he couldn't see. "Someone likes their toys." He thought to himself, making a note to get Marcus to check into new surveillance cameras for the London flat. "Well, no use putting it off." He reached out and tapped the door with his staff, wondering what kind of reception he would get.  
  
The door flew open as Nick appeared in the entrance, his gun in his hand. "How the hell did you get past the front gate?" he asked, standing his ground.  
  
"What front gate?" Joshua quipped, preparing himself for an attack.  
  
"Nick, let him in." Derek's voice sounded from behind the young security chief. The Precept himself appeared in the entrance, a folder in his hand.  
  
"You're sure?" Nick asked, not taking his eyes from his target.  
  
"Yes." Derek gestured him into the house wearily. "I suspect if he wanted to come in there isn't much any of us could do to stop him."  
  
"Got that right." Joshua replied, stepping around Nick as he entered the mansion. "So, where's my manager?"  
  
"Right here dear boy." Marcus's tired voice sounded from the library. The group moved quickly to join him, with Nick careful to keep himself between his leader and the man with the staff.  
  
"I saw our friend the monster." Joshua began, wickedly pleased with himself to see Nick's surprised reaction.  
  
"I suppose this means you went for another walk into the mists." Marcus replied, leaning back in his chair with a sigh. "You know, one of these days, you'll go down that path and never come back."  
  
"Maybe. But that's not important now. I'm not sure what that thing was, but it was mean and ugly and emanated power like I've never seen before. It's going to be hard to kill."  
  
"It's called a Pumpkin Head." Derek tossed the file down in front of the young dancer before taking a seat on the sofa. "Nick printed this out from our Legacy database."  
  
"Pumpkin Head?" Joshua asked, vainly trying not to laugh. "Who comes up with these names?"  
  
"This is quite serious Joshua." Marcus reprimanded his employer gently, pushing the files towards him.  
  
"Sorry." Joshua read quickly through the files, frowning at the stories about Melody Danvers suicide. "So, it's either Reverend Danvers or his kid. They're the only ones with a motive."  
  
"And both are nowhere to be found." Nick added in, leaning against the wall to watch their guests. "The last record anyone has of them is shortly after Melody was buried. The good Reverend wouldn't spring to have his kid's body returned to him, saying she had chosen her life of sin and had ceased to be his child. The brother arranged for her to be buried in a little cemetery here in San Francisco then disappeared from everyone's radar screen."  
  
"My guess, the brother is the one who called up the creature." Joshua mused, looking at the photo Nick had managed to find of both the Danvers men. The Reverend was tall and emaciated, with the gleaming eyes of a fanatic. The son was probably of equal height but the perpetual stoop he seemed to effect made him look smaller. He had looked away when the photo was taken so his eyes were hidden from view, denying Joshua the chance to assess his soul.  
  
"The Reverend was one of those fire and brimstone sort from what I could dig up. Not the sort to try to call something up from Hell to avenge a child whose actions he condemned." Nick looked down at the printout in Joshua's hands soberly, sympathy in his voice. "I have a feeling that both his kids must have felt a trip to Hell would have been preferable to life with daddy."  
  
"That's a stereotype." Joshua protested, though he privately agreed with Nick's assessment. "Lots of hellfire type preachers are good parents." He tossed the printout back on the table with a flick of his wrist. "Though in this case, you might have a point."  
  
"What about the boyfriend?" Derek asked, his voice grim. "The one you saw abusing Melody Danvers. Was he one of the creatures victims?"  
  
"Don't think so." Joshua replied, thinking back to the incident. "No, I'm sure he wasn't. His face doesn't match any of the pictures of the victims I've seen so far."  
  
Derek slid a set of folders across the low table at the young dancer. "There have been four murders here, including the one you read about in the papers. You had better look at the previous three victims to make sure."  
  
Joshua scanned the crime scene photos quickly, grimacing at the violence they showed. "Nope, none of these guys is the one I threw out of the audition that night. I never found out what his name was." Joshua looked up at the assembled men solemnly. "I have a feeling that's why the others were killed. Whoever it is that's doing this couldn't find out which man was responsible for the girl's death so he's just going down the list."  
  
"How did he get a copy of our sign-in roster?" Marcus asked, concerned.  
  
Derek looked at the older man in surprise. "Good question. You had the only copy, am I right?"  
  
"Yes and no. Marcus is somewhat obsessive about our record keeping so he keeps separate files on all our major events, including open auditions. Those files don't travel with us as a rule. We keep them in a small office space I keep at home in Collinwood. That's where we found it after the first couple of murders. But the office isn't occupied when we're not in town. So anyone wanting to get to those files could have broken in and made a copy while we were on travel. " Joshua looked around curiously. "Listen; do you have a phone I can borrow? I was supposed to call my cousin back. He'll probably be wondering where I am."  
  
"Your cousin Barnabas?" Nick asked, looking at Derek.  
  
Joshua sighed. "Let me guess. You did a search on him too."  
  
Derek cut off the conversation quickly. "There's a phone in the hall you can use."  
  
Joshua rose stiffly, leaning on his staff, and strolled out. Derek reached for the file, noting the tired lines on Marcus's face. "Maybe you should get some rest?"  
  
"No, I'll be fine." Marcus protested weakly, and then sighed. "Well, maybe just a quick nap. I'm afraid I'm not as young as I use to be."  
  
"Nick will show you where you can lay down." Derek offered, glancing up at his friend.  
  
"Sure, come this way." Nick held out his hand and helped the older man up before leading him away.  
  
Derek sat for a moment in silence, considering what was known about the case. The database had said the creature shared its life force with the person who summoned it, making it almost impossible to destroy it without destroying its human master. The few stories found in the database told of the creature's single-minded determination in destroying its prey and anyone who foolishly get in its way. But there had been no evidence that the creature was able to survive more than one night. So how was it that this creature was still alive several days after its last kill? Derek glanced up as Joshua walked slowly back into the room.  
  
"Well, I have a problem." Joshua began, dropping into the seat Marcus had deserted.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"My cousin is on his way here. He should be at the airport by midnight."  
  
"Why is this a problem?" Derek asked, a cold feeling creeping over him as he remembered his vision.  
  
"Cause my dear cousin Barnabas is a vampire." He replied matter-of-factly. "You saw that much with your Sight. And if you guys are like every other Legacy House I've run into, you'll probably try to take him out of the equation permanently. Or he'll try to take you out. Either way, it's a bad situation."  
  
"Will you try to protect him?" Derek asked somberly.  
  
"Yeah, I kind of have to. He is my blood kin. He's not a bad sort, just sort of irritable, especially when his meds are not working."  
  
"Meds?"  
  
"His doctor is trying to cure his vampirism using modern science, so she shoots him up with different medicines, trying to eliminate what she sees as the cause of his condition. Sometimes it makes him hard to be around. Jumpy, irritable, sometimes just plain nasty. But when they're working, he's just like you. Normal."  
  
Derek tried to keep his skepticism contained. "You believe this doctor can succeed?"  
  
"Nope. But he does. And belief is half the battle. Anyway, last we talked, he said his latest course of drugs was keeping him from munching on the local population so let's hope that's still the case." Joshua leaned forward and looked at the description of the creature again. "So, how are we going to take this thing out?"  
  
"We need to lure it out into the open. Hopefully, whoever is controlling it will be close by, allowing us to strike at him while the creature is distracted."  
  
"So you'll need a stalking horse, something it's likely to want to try to chase down." Joshua looked across at the Legacy precept with a wicked gleam in his eyes. "Let me guess - that would be me."  
  
"Nick will stop its master while you distract the creature. It should work."  
  
"For my sake I hope your right. So when do we go hunting?"  
  
"Tonight."  
  
Pt. 15  
  
And so it was that the Legacy found itself in league with an immortal sorcerer to track down a demon raised from Hell. Marcus had been less than enthused about his employer's role as the bait in their hunt but had grudgingly admitted that there wasn't much choice. Nick had also been skeptical, reasoning quite vocally that Joshua's inherent abilities would prove more dangerous to the Legacy than the creature.  
  
"What if he decides to take a powder and leave us at the that things mercy?" Nick asked, watching Joshua give Marcus last minute instructions.  
  
"I doubt that will happen." Derek replied. "It's in his best interest to make sure the creature is destroyed. Eventually, whoever is working their way down that list may decide to target him as well as the others."  
  
"So why doesn't he just take it out on his own?" Nick asked, watching the young dancer with his older companion.  
  
"Why don't you ask him that?" Derek looked down at the police reports with a speculative gleam in his eye. "What about the detective who also saw the creature? Detective Toussaint? What about bringing him into this?"  
  
"Sonny?" Nick replied quizzically. "I don't know, Derek. There's something about him. Visiting that park had been a spur-of-the-moment decision yet he knew exactly where to find me. It was almost like he was following me."  
  
"Maybe he was." Joshua commented, walking up to the Legacy members with a grim expression on his face. "I take it the detective you're talking about was the man I saw you with at the park?"  
  
"Yeah, that reminds me, how did you know I was there?" Nick asked suspiciously.  
  
"I saw you there." Joshua replied, fingering his staff thoughtfully. "Sometimes before I step off the mystic paths I call up a view of my destination so I can be sure of what I'm getting into before I step out of the mists. In this case, I saw you and another man talking just before the creature jumped out at you." He thought for a moment about revealing that the other man was a vampire then decided against it. The Legacy knowing his cousin's secret was bad enough. There was no reason to endanger another night creature without provocation.  
  
"What's the mystic path?" Nick asked, glancing up at Derek.  
  
"A story for another time." Joshua replied, changing the subject quickly. "Look, it's almost midnight. Why don't I go pick up my cousin Barnabas at the airport and we'll meet you at the park."  
  
"His cousin?" Nick asked, surprised at the turn of events. The last thing the Legacy's security specialist had expected was to add another person to the chase.  
  
"Are you sure you want to bring him into this?" Derek asked, skeptically, ignoring Nick's reaction.  
  
"Frankly, yes. I'm going to need someone watching my back I can trust. Marcus is too old and too tired to go on a hunt with me. As for you guys, well, I've made the mistake of letting my guard down around you Legacy types before. Just cause we're on the same side in this fight doesn't mean the minute you don't need me you won't try to take me out of the picture. I'll just feel a whole lot safer with someone of my own blood watching over me."  
  
Derek glared at the young sorcerer for a moment, then shrugged. "Have it your own way, then. We'll meet you at the park in an hour."  
  
Joshua turned and made a magic sign with his hand. A swirl of fog rose up from the ground, forming a gateway. "See you in an hour." He replied, stepping into the mists and disappearing from their view.  
  
Nick blinked, astounded by what he had seen. "Do I want to know how he did that?" he asked, looking at Marcus.  
  
"Not really." Marcus replied, wearily. "Do be careful gentlemen. If this thing is as dangerous as Joshua believes, it may take all your talents and more to destroy it."  
  
"Why doesn't he just kill it himself?" Nick questioned the old man gently, sensing his concern for his employer.  
  
"He could destroy it but Joshua has told me that the demon is not the problem, it's the person or persons who has summoned it. Destroy this creature and that person will merely summon another one. That's why he needs you."  
  
"He'll distract the creature while we find its master and stop him." Derek replied, picking up his jacket and heading for the door.  
  
Nick followed him, mentally debating his options. "Where are you going Derek?"  
  
Derek turned and looked at his friend. "I thought I would talk to Frank before we began this hunt. We may need his backup if we do find whoever is responsible for calling up this creature."  
  
Nick started out the door ahead of his Precept. "Then we might as well talk to Sonny as well. He's at least seen the creature. I have a feeling we going to need all the reinforcements we can get." The two men moved off into the night leaving Marcus alone with his thoughts.  
  
--  
  
Joshua stepped out of the mists and found himself in the airport men's room, in an unused stall. "Well, at least I don't need to explain how I did that to anyone." He thought, transforming his staff into an umbrella as he trotted out into the concourse. A quick glance at the board told him where his cousin's flight would most likely to be found. "Figures, it's at the other end of the airport." He groused, breaking into a run.  
  
At the terminal he scanned the crowd quickly, looking for a familiar face. "Hey cousin, over here!" he called out, waving to the tall figure coming through the gate.  
  
"Is it necessary to announce my arrival to everyone within shouting distance?" Barnabas replied dryly, clasping his cousin's hand in an affectionate gesture.  
  
"Wouldn't want you to think I was ignoring you." Joshua quipped, glancing around. "Where's Willie?"  
  
"I sent him to fetch the bags. What kind of trouble are you in now?"  
  
"Not much. There's just this little problem of a demon someone has called up to hunt down dancers who once auditioned for me. It might or might not decide to come after me so I've decided to take the fight to it and I need you to watch my back. That's not much trouble, is it?" Joshua looked into his cousin's eyes, his mocking tone not quite covering the real concern in his eyes.  
  
"I can't let you out of my sight for a moment, can I?" Barnabas sighed, keeping his tone as light as his cousin's. Inwardly, he cringed at the thought of some horror coming after his kinsman. He was fond of the man, despite their disagreements.  
  
"Probably not." Joshua agreed, motioning his cousin to follow. "Look, we can't wait on Willie. We're going after the thing in about an hour and I need to brief you on what to expect. He'll just have to take care of himself for a while."  
  
Barnabas looked at his cousin in grim amusement. "Willie take care of himself? Somehow that thought doesn't fill me with confidence." The two men strode off, dodging other passengers scurrying about the concourse.  
  
"Don't worry cousin. I'll have you back before he even notices you're gone." Joshua replied, finding a deserted corner of the building in which to open his portal. They stepped through onto the mystic path and were gone from sight.  
  
--  
  
Rachel looked around the crowd at the baggage claim area, mentally calculating how long it would take her to get through to find her luggage. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a forlorn figure standing with two small bags, looking rather lost. "Excuse me, but aren't you Mr. Collins traveling companion?"  
  
Willie looked up, startled. "What? Oh, you're the lady who was sitting with Barnabas. You haven't seen him have you? We kind of got separated when we came off the plane."  
  
"No, I haven't seen him. Maybe he's waiting for you at the entrance?"  
  
"Okay, I'll look there. Maybe he's gone to see his cousin."  
  
Rachel looked at the nervous man with some sympathy. "Would he have left without you? "  
  
"Oh yes, He'll do pretty much anything he wants to. I guess I'll just have to wait for him here."  
  
"Do you know where his cousin lives?" she asked, pensively.  
  
"Yeah, he's at this big hotel downtown." He replied, mentioning the name of one of the fanciest of San Francisco's many establishments. "I'll just wait on him here."  
  
Rachel frowned then made a quick decision. "Nonsense. We'll leave a message with the airlines and you can come with me. I'll drop you off at the hotel."  
  
"I don't know." Willie began, glancing fearfully at the bags at his feet.  
  
"I'm sure you're employer would not want you to wait at the airport all night. It's no trouble." Rachel replied soothingly, gently nudging him towards the ticket stand. Within a few minutes the message had been left and they were on their way.  
  
--  
  
Isolde looked over the information that Karn had found for Daedalus with Sonny reading over her shoulder. "I thought I remembered the name Barnabas Collins. He's an Anarch, a clanless vampire who lives on the East Coast. My sire had reason to hear of his existence a few years ago when he went on something of a killing spree. Then just as suddenly as they had begun, the deaths stopped. We had other matters which proved to be more pressing so Kahn chose to ignore the situation so long as it remained peaceful."  
  
"So this Joshua Collins is related to Barnabas Collins?" Sonny asked, wondering what this had to do with the murders.  
  
"So it would seem. As for the other names, the girl was a suicide here in San Francisco a year ago tonight. Her death is the reason behind these deaths. It would seem the creature is trying to find the one responsible for her untimely demise. Interesting. She was buried in that little cemetery I frequent, the one where one of the bodies was found. I think, ." She hesitated at the sound of Sonny's cell phone.  
  
Sonny flipped open the receiver and listened for a moment, making the occasional comment. He glanced over at Isolde as he finished. "Looks like all hells going to break loose tonight. Frank wants me to meet the Legacy members at the part where we saw the creature. My best bet is that they're going hunting."  
  
"Then so will we." Isolde resolved, rising from behind the desk. Her violet eyes were cold and hard. "This madness has gone on long enough. It ends tonight before it endangers the Masquerade."  
  
Sonny looked at her doubtfully. "But it really has nothing to do with us, with the Kindred."  
  
"Perhaps not." She agreed, a grim smile on her face. "But I've a taste for blood tonight. And I can't think of any better way to satisfy that taste than with a hunt. Can you?"  
  
Sonny shook his head, a chill running up his spine. Whoever was responsible for calling up this demon would tonight meet a creature that even the Kindred feared. Tonight, the Ventrue Dark Angel would hunt for the sheer joy of the kill. And woe be it to any who got in her way.  
  
Pt. 16  
  
The fog rolled in on the deserted cemetery, cloaking it in a smothering wet blanket. Not even the lights of the city could penetrate its gloom. The creature shuffled back and forth in its hiding place, occasionally stopping to sniff at the dry bones of the mausoleums former inhabitants. It was growing stronger now with every kill, stronger and more self-aware. It stopped in a dark corner to watch the human who had called it up from the depths of hell go through their nightly ritual. Every night the human would pull out a stack of photos and documents and review them over and over again, muttering to itself as it did so. The creature hadn't taken much stock at first, knowing only the imperative to kill. But now, as the human's life force was slowly draining into the demon, it finally developed a dangerous new talent - curiosity.  
  
"Soon they will all be dead, all of those who destroyed your dream." The human muttered, clinging to the faded photo of a young woman. "Soon they will all pay."  
  
The demon began its pacing again, anxious to be off on its new hunt. Its master had given it the scent hours ago, now all that was required were the words - the commands that would send it out into the night.  
  
"Go forth and kill."  
  
With a roar, the demon was gone, its master's mad laughter following in its wake.  
  
--  
  
pt. 17  
  
Nick shivered as the cold wind off the bay whipped around him. The park was dark, all the street lights close to the road being broken. "Where's the Street Department when you need it?" he muttered, peering up at the broken bulbs.  
  
"The creature's master may have broken the lights." Derek replied, looking expectantly down the street. "It would make the prey's terror all the more acute."  
  
"The Pumpkin Head may also be able to see better in the dark." Nick replied, moving to lean against the car door. "It would give it a hell of an advantage in tracking." He frowned as a car moved slowly down the road, pulling hesitantly into the empty slot just behind him. "Looks like we have company."  
  
Sonny climbed hesitantly out of his car, his eyes glued to the entrance to the park. "Anything happening?" he asked, stopping beside Derek.  
  
"Nothing yet." Nick replied, reaching into his car for the printouts he had brought along with him. "Did Frank tell you what was going down?"  
  
"He said you'd fill me in." Sonny replied, wondering how much of the real truth the Legacy would choose to share with a virtual outsider. The Nosferatu were still researching the creature he had seen when he had left Julian's mansion but one thing they had been sure of. It was not a Kindred, not one of the varied clans of vampire's that inhabited the Darkness. Sonny wondered briefly if chasing after the creature would lead to his exposure as a member of the undead then shook off the thought. Now was not the time for such distractions. He reached for the files in Nick's hands.  
  
"This is what we know about the case." Nick began ticking off methodically the information they had discovered. "All the deaths are related to this girl's suicide. Looks like someone raised something up from Hell to make a particular man pay for her suffering. Since he didn't know who the guy was, he just started at one end of the list and is working his way down."  
  
Sonny read through the files, pretending to peer at the printouts in the dim light. His acute vampire's vision need little help from the limited available light but he had learned over the years to play his part well. "One thing puzzles me. Why wait so long to start killing these guys? The girl has been dead a year. But the killing only recently started. What took the guy so long?"  
  
"Probably took him a while to locate that list of people who were at the audition. Then he had to located the men on the list." Nick replied.  
  
"Or it took him a while to find the right spell for his purposes." Derek offered, moving to lean on the cars hood.  
  
"If it's the Reverend or his kid, finding the spell shouldn't have been that hard. According to this, Reverend Danvers had a church up in the hills where that Pumpkin Head was first spotted. Finding the old witch woman who called up the demon couldn't have been that hard. These kind of stories tend to get passed on from generation to generation." Sonny read on silently then stopped, re-reading one particular paragraph. "Your report says the girl was found after a neighbor complained of hearing strange noises in her room. But according to the coroner's report - and I won't ask how you got a copy of that - the girl had been dead for hours by the time that tenant complained."  
  
"You think her neighbor might have had something to do with her death?" Nick asked, frowning at the dimly visible pages.  
  
"It's just odd. Most types that live in that sort of hotel don't want to be noticed so they don't do anything that's likely to bring attention to themselves. I had a case in that same hotel where the victim had been dead for days but no one called it in until the stench got bad. And even then, it was an anonymous tip. Yet this guy goes to the manager, even gives his name to the cops who come to take the report. What's up with that?" Sonny fished his cell phone out of his pocket and called into the precinct. "Put me through to Angela."  
  
"Who are you calling?" Derek asked, quizzically.  
  
"A friend in records." Sonny replied, neglecting to mention that his friend was also a member of his Ventru clan. "Hey, Angela, do me a favor? Run down this name - Isadore Carney. Yeah I know it's probably an alias but see what you can find out and call me back. It's important." He gave the voice at the other end his remote number, knowing she would not only search the police databanks but also funnel his request to Karn and the Nosferatu. "We should know something pretty soon. What the hell is that?" he gasped, backing up a step.  
  
The others turned to see a wall of mist suddenly form an arch before them, glowing with an inner light. From it's midst two men strode forward, Joshua leading the way. His staff gleaned with an unearthly light, illuminating the darkness with its power. The other man followed with his hand on Joshua's shoulder. They stopped just outside of the arch and turned, Joshua making a magic sign with his hand. The gleaming arch faded leaving nothing in its wake. The mists dispersed, becoming nothing more substantial than cold damp tendrils that wrapped around their legs. Joshua turned and smiled brightly at the startled men.  
  
"Miss me?" he asked mischievously. A roar sounded from the depths of the park, wiping the devilish smile from his face. "Guess our friends out and about tonight." He glanced back at his companion, who was staring into the park with concern. "Barnabas, meet our fellow hunters. Fellow hunters, meet my cousin Barnabas. Okay, now that we've been formally introduced, lets do remember that our prey tonight is big and ugly and looks like a rotted pumpkin, not like either him or me. Missing is not an option, and I'll get real cranky if I have to spend time pulling shrapnel out of my hide."  
  
Barnabas looked back at his cousin with exasperation. "He does babble on doesn't he? Would someone like to tell me exactly what kind of hellish creature this boy has chasing him?"  
  
"I'll do you one better." Sonny replied, backing up slowly. "I'll show you." he pointed in the direction of the park. There, in the entrance, sat the object of their search.  
  
Pt. 18  
  
The creature watched its prey for a moment from the relative obscurity of the shadowy park. There were many of them to chose from, but none had the aura it sought, the aura of the particular prey its master had sent it for. It snuffled hesitantly, its newly born curiosity at war with the rage which fueled its hunts, the rage which kept it from sinking, as had its brethren, back into the eternal bog. Suddenly a light appeared from nowhere, the cursed light of white magic that burned it to the bone. It snarled and moved towards the entrance to its hunting preserve, keeping the light always in sight. From its brilliant depths two more prey emerged, one holding a staff that radiated power. The beast stopped, contemplating its next move. Then one of the prey turned and looked its way and it knew that the choice had been made for it.  
  
--  
  
"Scatter!" Nick called out, pulling a Glock from his jacket and firing on the beast. Beside him, Sonny drew out his service revolver and began firing, his keen vampire's vision helping him to line up his target. Derek also drew out a revolver and fired, coolly aiming for the creatures blazing eyes.  
  
"This way cousin!" Joshua sang out, grabbing the startled vampire by the arm and dragging him down the street. The two soon disappeared into the fog, which had mysteriously thickened as they ran. They moved swiftly towards a broken part of the fence that surrounded the park, vaulting effortlessly over the rusted metal railing. "There's a cemetery over there." Joshua whispered, waving his hand in the direction of the barely visible tombstones. "Seems as good a place as any to make a stand."  
  
"There's just one problem with your plan." Replied a soft voice. A figure stepped from behind a huge Weeping Willow and approached the two men, seeming to glide over the fog with ease. She was tall and elegant, with raven hair almost down to her waist and violet eyes that glowed with an eerie light. "The creature didn't follow you."  
  
"Who are you?" Barnabas asked, entranced by the vision in front of him.  
  
"She's a vampire." Joshua replied, holding his staff in front of him.  
  
"A Kindred." She corrected him gently. "My name is Isolde. Do you know something of our kind, sorcerer?"  
  
"Something." Joshua answered, glancing back towards the street. The sound of gunshots could still be heard echoing in the night. "You live in clans, a leader from one of the clans is designated your Prince and he rules the others in the city. I assume you are not Sabbat since you didn't try to take us out or subvert us immediately so you must be part of the Camarilla."  
  
"What are the Sabbat and Camarilla?" Barnabas asked, confused.  
  
"Later." Joshua replied, turning to watch the woman intently.  
  
"Quite correct, sorcerer." Isolde replied, making a mental note to herself to report back to her father this magic-users knowledge of their kind. "I am my Prince's Archon, or what you would call Councilor. It fell to me to see if this creature was one of our own or a result of a human's folly."  
  
"Well, I think we can all guess what the answer to that question was." Joshua turned and started back towards the street. "We'd better get back to the game and see if we can't attract a little more attention."  
  
"Indeed." Isolde reached down into a pile of dead leaves and lifted a heavy, oaken crossbow. "Perhaps I'll join you."  
  
"Why did I know she was going to say that?" Joshua muttered running back down an overgrown trail with his cousin and the mysterious member of the Kindred close on his heels.  
  
--  
  
"Keep firing!" Nick yelled, diving to avoid the blow the creature aimed at him. It bounced its fist off the top of the Ranger Rover, leaving a dent in the metal.  
  
"It's not working!" Sonny yelled back, scrambling to get into a better position.  
  
Derek joined Nick, pulling his empty clip out of the revolver and ramming a full clip in its place. "We have to lure it back into the park before someone else catches its attention."  
  
"What about Joshua?" Nick asked, backing slowly towards the one remaining lit street lamp. "Where the hell did he go?"  
  
"Into the park." Sonny replied, rolling past the angered creature to stand at Nick's left. "He must have thought it would follow him in."  
  
"He wasn't its target." Derek muttered, his eyes sweeping what little of the area he could see. "And his staff must have made it hesitant to attack him."  
  
"So it decided to go after easier prey, like us." Nick commented bitterly. "Great! Just great! The next time I let you talk me into trusting a wizard."  
  
Suddenly the creature howled in agony as an oaken shaft pierced its arm. The men turned, startled, to see their errant comrades and a young woman come charging out of the park. The woman was holding a crossbow and her eyes were blazing with an almost unearthly light. "Oh hell!" Sonny muttered, suddenly feeling cold. "The cavalry has arrived."  
  
Pt. 19  
  
Joshua glanced at the female Kindred at his side, her ebony hair blowing like a cape behind her. "Aim a little higher." He suggested, pointing at the creature with his free hand. His staff began to glow; it's magical essence sensing danger.  
  
"I was just getting its attention." Isolde purred, quickly reloading her crossbow. In an instant, another shaft was winging its way back towards the wounded creature, catching it in the chest. It howled in agony and wrenched both bolts from its flesh, tossing them aside with a flick of its clawed hand.  
  
"What now?" Barnabas asked, moving a few paces in front of his cousin.  
  
"Keep hurting it." Derek called out, firing his revolver at the creature again. "We may be able to drive it back to its master if we hurt it enough."  
  
"Good thought." Joshua agreed, swinging his staff around to face the beast. "But at the rate you all are hitting it, we could be here all night. Let me give it a try." He closed his eyes and let the power of his magic and his rage flow through his body and into the staff. With a piercing shriek, it released a stream of light and heat at its target, setting the already injured creature afire. The beast screamed in terror and pain and dashed past the trio back into the park, quickly disappearing into the thick underbrush. The scent of its burning flesh hung in the air like an evil miasma.  
  
"Quick, after it!" Nick yelled, charging after the beast.  
  
"No." Isolde called out, stepping in front of Derek so quickly could not stop. She caught his arms as he fell into her and held his gaze, her Ventrue power of domination holding his will in check. "Let us go ahead. This prey is ours."  
  
Derek gasped, the feeling of power emanating from the woman flowing over him like waves. "What are you?" he whispered.  
  
Barnabas and his cousin watched the vampire's actions with varying levels of interest. "Not now." Barnabas called out, straining to keep the creature's fiery trail in sight. "It's getting away."  
  
"Another time then." Isolde sighed, backing slowly towards the vampire and his cousin. She laid the crossbow on the ground, then turned and started for the park. "Come, the chase is nearly over. Our quarry is in sight."  
  
For the young sorcerer, however, the most important part of the battle was yet to be fought. "We'll be right back." Joshua darted into the park after the creature, his cousin hot on his heels. Isolde followed close behind. Joshua would handle the beast with his magic and she had more personal plans for the author of tonight's little play.  
  
--  
  
The beast ran blindly through the darkness, its pain driving it madly back to its lair. The light had surrounded it, blinded and burned it and even now would not leave it in peace. Somewhere behind it the creature could hear its pursuers following the trail of flame and dead flesh it was leaving in its wake. Never in its existence had the creature ever faced anything it could not destroy, but the light had been too strong, too bright and too hot. Now its only thought was to return to its Master, to return to the cool darkness of its decaying home and sink once more into the darkness that had claimed all its brethren before it.  
  
Ahead, the mausoleum loomed like a beacon in the darkness. From its depths came a wailing, a high-pitched keening of an injured or dying animal. The creature, blinded still by the power of the sorcerer's staff, caught the sound and used it to guide it the last few yards to its lair. It stumbled through the broken door and hurled itself in the direction of the sound. On the ground was its master, writhing in shared pain with his creature, his features burned almost beyond recognition. His screams were unintelligible; moans of pain mixed with curses.  
  
The supernatural hunters stopped just a few feet from the mausoleum, each struck by the sounds coming from within. "Well, at least that part of the story is true." Joshua commented, clutching his staff tightly. "Seems whoever called the beast up does share its fate."  
  
"Poor devil." Barnabas winced as the screams rose and fell from within the structure. "Shouldn't we put him out of his misery?"  
  
"Well, I could certainly do that." Isolde replied coldly, her eyes turning blood red.  
  
"Not a good idea." Joshua swung the staff so that it was between the Kindred and the door. "I don't know what his link to the beast would do to you if you fed from him. Besides, I've an interest in seeing who this is before we end his miserable life."  
  
"Well, I suggest you hurry." Isolde commented, wrinkling her nose at the smell wafting from the crypt. "I don't think he'll last till morning."  
  
Joshua stepped forward and waved his staff, his deep voice intoning a minor incantation. A soft light illuminated the crypt's interior, revealing the creature huddled in the corner cowering from its beams. In the entrance a man writhed in agony. He turned towards the sound of the trio as they approached the door and screamed his fury and pain then dropped back to the floor, his feeble strength spent. "Well I'll be dammed!" Joshua exclaimed, catching a good view of the man's burned features.  
  
"Who is it?" Barnabas asked, grimacing as he looked at the remains.  
  
"It's him. The one I ran off that night almost a year ago. It's that poor girl's boyfriend."  
  
Pt. 20  
  
"Who?" Barnabas asked, looking down at the injured man curiously.  
  
"You mean that young girl who committed suicide - Melody Danvers?" Isolde queried, her eyes never leaving the growling creature that huddled in the back of the mausoleum.  
  
"Yeah, the one who was beating the crap out of her the night of the audition. Why the hell would he care enough to sell his soul to avenge her death?" Joshua gave the dying man and the creature a long, hard stare than made a quick decision. "He's in no shape to answer and the creature can't talk. I think I'm going to have to do a little transferring of essences here if we're going to get the whole story."  
  
"Transferring of essences?" Barnabas stared at his cousin, appalled by what he had heard. "You're not really thinking of doing what I think you're going to do, are you?"  
  
"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like hearing this?" Isolde sighed, reaching out the crypt to pluck a dying rose from a nearby bush.  
  
"Look, all I'm going to do is give the creature what he would have gotten anyway if the spell had been cast properly - his master's life essence. I'll just make sure that his memories and motivations go along with the transfer. Then we can find out how this all started." Joshua quickly reviewed the spell in his mind, feeling his staff's power grow as he formed the incantations mentally.  
  
"Why take the risk?" Barnabas argued. "Both creatures are dying. Let them die. Don't force them to live on in an unnatural state."  
  
"It sounds like you have a personal reason for wanting their agony to end." Isolde commented.  
  
"I do." the other vampire retorted angrily. "Do you think I would have chosen this existence willingly, never truly human, always on the verge of being more monster than man? The choice was taken from me and I find it repugnant to take it from another."  
  
"How sad you see your life in such limited terms." Isolde stretched her hands above her head, filling her lungs with the sweet night air and the stench of death. "I chose this life with no reservations, no hesitations. But then, I had a mentor who showed me the life of a Kindred could be sweet."  
  
"We can argue the finer points of vampire life later." Joshua glanced back at the two undead creatures with a sigh. "The Legacy people and your Kindred friend the cop are almost here. If I'm going to do this, it must be now, before the man gets any weaker."  
  
"Do what?" Nick asked, running from the path to the crypt. The smell of burnt flesh had wafted as far as the edge of the tree, leading them to the beast's lair. Behind him, Derek and Sonny also appeared, each carrying their respective weapons in case of trouble.  
  
"What are you planning?" Derek asked, moving out of the trees to stand beside Nick. He glanced at the scene inside the mausoleum and turned away, a sick feeling in his stomach.  
  
"My mad young cousin wants to give the creature its masters soul so that he can hear its story." Barnabas snarled. "And this witch is supporting him in his madness."  
  
"Enough!" Joshua's voice rang through the crypt like a bell tolling midnight. "It is done!" He waved his staff over the prone figure in front of him then pointed it at the cowering creature in the rear of the building. A harsh light flooded the room and a sound like a thousand souls screaming deafened its occupants. When at last the group could hear and see again, the injured man lay still and cold, his face deformed to resemble a badly carved jack-o-lantern. In the shadows, the creature stirred, then looked up at the wary group, its eyes now shining with intelligence.  
  
"Welcome to my Hell." It snarled.  
  
Pt. 21  
  
"Joshua, in the name of God, kill this monstrosity before it can escape." Barnabas pleaded, staying just out of range of the creature's long arms.  
  
"Not before I hear its story." Joshua replied grimly. His fingers inscribed a mystical symbol in the air, murmuring a spell in a low, monotone voice. Before their startled eyes, the stonewalls of the sepulcher reached out and embraced the creature, holding it in place.  
  
"Free me wizard!" it snarled, struggling vainly against its stone chains.  
  
"Not going to happen." Joshua snarled back. "Now, you have two choices. The sun will be up in a few minutes. We can all sit here and watch you burn up in its light or you can tell me why you did what you did and maybe I can help you stay alive."  
  
"You're not making a deal with that thing!" Nick sputtered, turning his gun on the young magician. Behind him, Derek also turned, his gun trained carefully on their former ally.  
  
"I'll do whatever it takes to find the truth." Joshua replied, pulling up a dusty vase and turning it over for use as a chair. "And there isn't much you can do to stop me."  
  
"I can put a bullet between your eyes." Nick retorted.  
  
Barnabas reached out swiftly and pulled the gun effortlessly from the young man's hands. "I can't let you do that." The vampire said sadly. "He's my family and while I don't agree with what he's doing, I can't let you hurt him."  
  
Isolde looked at Sonny, who had stationed himself at the door. "I suggest we hear what the creature has to say." She said, her Ventrue power of Domination flooding her voice.  
  
Derek felt his himself start to give way to the persuasion in the female vampire's voice. "Perhaps we should.NO! This can not be allowed!" With supreme effort he tried to pull the trigger, only to find that his fingers would not accept his mind's commands. It was all the hesitation the Ventrue cop needed to snatch the gun from the Precept's nerveless fingers.  
  
"Let's at least hear the creature's story before we go shooting people." Sonny said, slipping Derek's gun into his jacket pocket.  
  
Joshua smiled thinly at the Kindred and motioned towards the creature. "Well, we're listening Creature. Let's hear why you had to kill those men."  
  
The creature stared back at the magician, anger blazing from his eyes. "If I tell you, you will let me live?"  
  
"If you don't tell me I'll let you burn so really, what choice do you have?"  
  
It thought about that statement for a moment then laughed evilly. "They had to die. They killed her, killed her dream. Their contempt made her take her life and sent her to hell. They had to pay for that."  
  
Joshua sighed in annoyance. "And since when did you care about her or her dream. Last time I saw you, you were beating her with a belt strap for making you look bad."  
  
"That was before." The creature roared, struggling against its stone bonds. "Before I heard the Word. Before I understood the Power! He explained it to me, saved me from the Pit. I had to make them pay, he said, make them pay for fouling that pure creature and her dream."  
  
"Heaven help us from a monster who's heard the Word." Joshua snarled. "Let me guess, you couldn't get a gig after her death so you were living hand to mouth. Then one day someone comes to you breathing fire and brimstone and talking about salvation. He gives you a job, food, drugs, whatever it takes to bind you to his preaching. But he tells you that you can't be saved until you bring justice to someone you've hurt in your past life. That you have to atone for the evil you allowed to fester in that life. And I'll bet he explained to you just how you were to go about this salvation. Any bets this "preacher" suggested that he eliminate the sinful ones who lured that poor, innocent girl he use to "love" into a life of degradation?"  
  
"So, who conned the con man? The girl's daddy or her brother?" Nick asked, interested in spite of himself.  
  
"My guess would be the girls brother." Sonny replied, reaching for his phone. "Any bets that the "Good Samaritan" who told the manager about the noise in the next room and got him to call in the girls death was actually big brother in disguise?" He quickly dialed the Precinct and listened as he friend told him what the Nosferatu had found out. "Seems Isadore Carney, the man listed on the official reports disappeared right after the investigation closed. He'd had a magic act in one of the those little dives by the water front and just stopped coming to work one day. According to a friend of a friend, Carney was his stage name. His real name was Trey Danvers - Melody Danver's older brother."  
  
"He remembered enough of his Father's hellfire preaching to repeat it to lure this poor fool to his doom." Isolde remarked grimly. "Probably with a little chemical help. I wonder where the evil little troll is now?"  
  
"Okay, I can see why he would want revenge on the people he thought had lured his sister away, but why bother with this freak?" Nick asked, gesturing down to the slowly cooling corpse at his feet. "Why not just call up the creature himself?"  
  
"Because it would mean sharing his life force with this hellish thing." Joshua replied, leaning his head back to look out of the doorway. "Why risk his own life when he could risk someone else's? And what better revenge on the man who started his sister on the road to ruin than to make him a part of some devil's brew?" He smiled as the first few rays of the sun started to creep into the gloomy structure. "I think you people might want to find someplace else to be real quick. The sun's coming up." He rose and stretched than started for the door.  
  
"Wait!" the creature screamed frantically. "You said you would spare my life!"  
  
"I lied." He replied coolly, watching as the golden sunlight flowed through the narrow windows. Small tongues of flame burst to life on the creatures skin as it screamed in agony. In moments it was over. The cleansing rays of the sun had burned the creature to ashes.  
  
Pt. 22  
  
Joshua leaned heavily on his oaken staff, his tired mind reviewing the night's events. Melody Danver's former boyfriend had been the fool responsible for calling up the demon, tricked into his final actions by the girl's vengeful brother. Now both the creature and its creator were dead, the final victims of a madman's plot. And somewhere, probably in this very city, Trey Danvers - the author of the night's horrors - was probably congratulating himself on a job well done. "Sometimes I really hate humans." Joshua muttered.  
  
"Not all humans are like this freak." Sonny replied, moving cautiously out of the shadows and into the early morning light.  
  
"No, some are worse." Joshua snapped, his exhaustion making him irritable.  
  
"And some are better." Barnabas replied from the dark entrance to the mausoleum. "What will you do now, cousin?"  
  
"It's over." Nick replied, cautiously edging past the older vampire into the sunlight. "The guy responsible for the deaths of those innocent men has gone to hell with the demon he called up as a weapon at his side. What else is there left to do?"  
  
"We must find Trey Danvers." Derek stated emphatically, glancing over his shoulder at the young woman who had accompanied them on their quest. "He is ultimately responsible for what has occurred."  
  
"Maybe, but I doubt I could get a judge to see it that way." Sonny commented, already turning over in his mind the names of Ventrue clan members and servants who sat on the bench and could be counted on to rule the way they were instructed.  
  
"What makes you think Danvers is even in the city?" Nick asked, giving Sonny a long, hard look. His actions in the crypt had not gone unnoticed by the ex-SEAL. The cop had been unaffected by the woman's hypnotic voice, had even sided with the vampire and the sorcerer against the others. The detective would bear watching.  
  
"Because he'd want to watch his puppet dance on his strings." Joshua replied wearily. "He'd want to be nearby to see the others die, maybe even to be close enough to watch as that poor fool finally realized the price he'd been made to pay for calling up the beast for his revenge. It would feed Danver's sick soul to watch that clueless fool give up his life energy and his soul to the beast he had helped him create." The dancer turned and walked back towards the path, clutching his staff tightly as he picked his way through the overgrown cemetery.  
  
"Wait!" Barnabas called out, glancing back at the horror behind him and at the Kindred woman still standing in the crypt's dark interior. "You can't just leave me here!"  
  
Joshua turned back with a sigh. "Oh yeah, I forgot. You have a real problem with crypts." He gestured with the staff and opened the portal between time and space, the road that had brought them from the airport to the battlefield. "I'll make sure my cousin gets to where he's staying then meet you guys back at the Luna Foundation. We can start our search for Trey Danvers then." He reached out and snagged his cousin's arm, dragging the reluctant vampire quickly through the pale early morning light and onto the mystic road. The magical tunnel disappeared with a sigh as soon as the two men started down its length, leaving the others to contemplate each other with distrust.  
  
"What about her?" Nick asked, gesturing towards the dark-haired woman in the crypt.  
  
"You can call me Ms. Durant." Isolde purred, pulling her collar up around her face and braving the growing daylight. "We have not yet been formally introduced."  
  
"What are you?" Derek asked warily. "Why did you interest yourself in these events?"  
  
"What I am and why I do what I do is my concern and not yours." Isolde replied coldly. She turned and started down another overgrown path, one still shadowy and cool.  
  
"Hey wait!" Nick called out, reaching out to stop her.  
  
The woman turned and caught his hand before it reached her arm. With a quick and vicious twist she brought the young man to his knees, his hand caught in a vice-like grip. "Didn't your mother ever teach you it wasn't polite to touch with out asking permission?" Her voice was soft and melodious but with a coldness that underlay every word. Her eyes were dark pools that caught and held the young man's will, binding him to her voice.  
  
"Leave him alone." Sonny insisted, moving to prevent Derek from leaping in to help his friend. A quick feint and a powerful left hook and the Legacy precept was on the ground, stunned.  
  
"Look at me boy and remember my words." Isolde whispered, holding Nick's will with her hypnotic voice. "You will not raise your hand to me again. Not ever again. No provocation will force you to break this command. No knowledge of my nature or plea from your friends will free you from my words." She lifted the entrance man to his feet, still holding his arm in her inescapable grip.  
  
"Isolde, you can't feed from him. Not here and now!" Sonny gasped, holding tightly to the human before him.  
  
"Yes, I can." Isolde replied, tilting the young man's head up slightly. Her razor-sharp teeth sliced cleanly through his skin with almost no pain. She drank daintily, only taking what she would need to keep her safe from the bright sunlight. Then she pulled away, carefully wiping a single drop of blood from her lips. "He surrendered to me quite willingly. He must have fed another of our kind. Interesting. Perhaps I'll look into that after we have found this Trey Danvers person."  
  
"Why should we find him?" Sonny asked, watching Derek closely. The Precept was beginning to stir, a development the Kindred were not yet ready to deal with.  
  
"There is no reason for the clan to search for him. But I have a particular dislike of those who have use others as instruments of their revenge. It smacks of cowardice and I can not abide a coward." Isolde glanced down at the older human male in Sonny's grip. "You'd best feed from that one. He'll be difficult to control otherwise."  
  
Sonny grimaced then pulled the Precept's wrist to his mouth, biting down quickly. He too only took what he would need to survive the sun's rays, and then let the human sink back down into oblivion. "I'll take care of a story for them to remember when they come to. You'd best get back to Prince Julian and tell him what happened here."  
  
Isolde nodded her agreement and disappeared into the rapidly disappearing shadows, leaving her kinsman with the two dazed mortals. Sonny looked down at the humans with a frown. "Okay genius." He muttered to himself. "Now what do you do?"  
  
Pt. 23  
  
Sonny rapidly cleaned up the scene, licking the wounds on Derek's wrist and Nick's neck to heal the injuries. He laid both men side by side and quietly but firmly repeated a story for their susceptible minds to remember. "You both were caught in the backwash of the wizard's spell, which almost dragged you into his mystical doorway. It was only with my help that you were able to keep from inadvertently being lost in the world between worlds. The lady who was with the wizard fled when the creature burst into flames and neither of you saw which way she went. Neither of you will remember much about her except she helped to destroy the creature." He passed his hands over both the men's faces, closing their eyes. "I just hope this takes." He fretted, looking around to ensure their privacy. Then he caught hold of the younger man's shoulders and started to shake him. "Nick! Hey buddy, you okay?"  
  
Nick woke with a start, a brassy taste in his mouth. "What? What happened?" He glanced beside him and pulled free of the detective's hands. "Derek! Are you all right?" He scrambled to his knees and leaned over, feeling for his friend's pulse.  
  
Derek's eyes snapped open at his friend's touch. "Nick? What.?"  
  
"What's the last thing you both remember?" Sonny asked, mentally crossing his fingers.  
  
Derek sat up gingerly and squinted into the distance, his head throbbing. "The creature burst into flames. Then Joshua said something about leaving and opened up a portal. We.I think we must have tried to follow him. The force of his magic was so strong, it was like nothing I can remember ever experiencing."  
  
Nick nodded uncertainly. "Yeah, I think I remember something like that. Only I don't think we meant to follow him. It was more like.we were being sucked in and Sonny pulled us out." He took the detective's hand and pulled himself to his feet unsteadily. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice tried to remind him of suspicions he had not voiced but his body's weariness stifled it's words.  
  
Sonny silently thanked whatever gods his clan would acknowledge that his Ventrue Power of Domination had been strong enough to implant the false memories in the two Legacy members. "Nick's right. It looked like you two were going to be dragged in so I grabbed hold of both of you and pulled you back. Looks like it was a good thing I did."  
  
Nick looked around the deserted cemetery warily. "Where's the girl? The one that was backing up Joshua?"  
  
"She fled when the creature was destroyed." Derek replied, slowly getting to his feet. "We'll have to ask him who she was when we see him next."  
  
"When will that be?" Sonny asked, watching the two mortals closely.  
  
"He didn't say." Derek acknowledged, slowly moving down the overgrown path towards the road. "But I have a feeling it won't be too long before we hear from our magical friend again."  
  
"He's your friend not mine." Nick muttered, following his leader closely. "I'm not ready to trust that guy any further than I can throw him."  
  
Sonny took up the rear, careful to remain in the shadows as much as possible till they reached their respective cars. Once back on the street the trio separated each reaching for the security of their own vehicles. "I'm headed back to the office to see if I can run down any leads on Danvers." Sonny called out to the two weary men. "I'll give you a call if I find anything."  
  
"Yeah, same here." Nick replied, fumbling for his keys. He glanced over the Range Rover to see Derek climb silently into the passenger side, wrapped in his own thoughts. "If we won, how come it feels like we lost?" Nick thought to himself, starting the engine and aiming the car in the direction of home.  
  
--  
  
"You did WHAT!" Julian's voice echoed through the normally quiet mansion, stopping the various servants in their tracks. The fresh flowers in their crystal vases shivered as the prince's angry voice resounded through the halls. Inside his study, the Ventrue Prince stalked around his Archon like a hungry tiger. The dark-haired beauty had arrived only an hour before to find her Prince in his study, anxious for her report. His anxiety had turned to fury when she had told him of the night's events.  
  
"Lower your voice boy." The dark-haired beauty watched her companion's movements with detachment. Any other time his anger would have been a source of grim amusement, but this morning her bones ached for rest and she found she had no patience for the younger Kindred's outrage.  
  
Isolde's cold response stopped the Ventrue Prince in his tracks. "I am your Prince and you will afford me the courtesy not to call me "boy". Do I make myself perfectly clear?"  
  
"Prince you may be Julian Luna but I am of the same generation as your sire and therefore more of a power than you will ever be. And it is you who will afford me the courtesy not to use that tone of voice with me." Isolde moved from the center of the room and gracefully lowered herself into a chair. "They will remember nothing. Your childe will see to that. And one of them is most susceptible to our kind. I suspect he's been fodder for a Kindred before this night."  
  
"I don't care if he's been a blood bag for a dozen Sabbat rituals. The Legacy is a dangerous enemy to make and you've attacked one of their own."  
  
"If by some miracle they start to remember I'll put them down myself. If my information about their organization is accurate, they've made more than a few supernatural enemies that can be blamed for their disappearance. Or we can use it their deaths as an excuse to finally rid the city of the few remaining Anarchs that so troubled you a few months ago. At any rate, what's done is done. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I would like to rest for a while before I return to my hunt. There is still the matter of that sorcerer responsible for raising up that monster. I think I would like to have a few words with him before the Legacy dispatches him to his just rewards." She rose swiftly and glided out the door, leaving a Julian speechless with rage behind her.  
  
"She did what she had to do to ensure her own and Sonny's survival in the face of the rising sun." Daedelus's quiet voice floated out of the shadows as the powerful Nosferatu primogen moved to join his friend.  
  
"She may have endangered us all." Julian snapped back, moving quickly to his desk. "Her sire may be my clan's Justicar and my grand-sire but his high rank will not save her from a Blood Hunt if the Legacy turns on us."  
  
Daedelus stiffened at the threat. "Sire, do not make this decision in anger. Please, it may be that both she and Sonny have dulled the human's memories of the nights events enough that they will be no threat to us."  
  
Julian sighed. "Forgive me, my old friend. I forget how much you care for the woman. And though she irritates me no end, I too have a certain fondness for her. But if the Hunter's come for her, I must make sure the rest of the Kindred are protected."  
  
"Sire, if it comes to that, I will do for her what I did for your paramour Alexandra when you were forced to call a Blood Hunt against her. I will kill Isolde myself."  
  
Julian stared up at his friend in sadness. "I hope for both our sakes it does not come that that."  
  
In the hallway, Isolde leaned wearily against the wall, her sensitive hearing picking up the last of her Prince's conversation with her lover. "Bloody hell!" she thought to herself. "Now I must make sure those mortal's remember nothing." She sighed in frustration, knowing that Julian had reason to be angry with her choice of strategy. "I do so hate to make ghouls of humans but if that is what I must do to make this right then so be it." She glided off down the hall towards her rooms, planning her next moves.  
  
--  
  
Joshua stepped from the mystic plane into the darkened hotel room, pulling his cousin along with him. "Well, here you are cousin. Home sweet home."  
  
"At least Willie appears to have made it here with all my luggage." Barnabas replied, walking through the maze of baggage strewn along the floor. "Speaking of which, where is that useless servant of mine?"  
  
"Barnabas?" Willie's hesitant voice sounded from inside the bedroom. "Is that you?"  
  
"Who the bloody hell else would it be?" Barnabas asked irritably.  
  
"Chill out cousin." Joshua flopped down on the sofa and stretched out, his staff falling from his tired fingers to roll just beside him. "Willie was probably just worried about you."  
  
"Yeah, that's it Barnabas. Me and Dr. Corrigan were worried when you left the airport so."  
  
"Dr. Corrigan?" Barnabas quickly closed the gap between himself and his terrified servant. "What did you tell that woman about me, Willie?"  
  
"Nothing!" the man stuttered, backing up out of reach of his master's clenched fist.  
  
"Can I say something here?" Joshua asked.  
  
"No!" Barnabas replied, his eyes fixed on Willie's trembling form.  
  
"Thought not." Joshua muttered a few arcane words and beckoned with his hand. Suddenly, the sorcerers' staff flew through the air and floated between the vampire and his potential target. "You have two choices, cousin. Either shut up, go to bed and leave that poor man alone or I'll beat the living daylights out of you with this staff, take your stuff and toss your worthless carcass out into the daylight. Your choice."  
  
Barnabas turned and scowled at his kinsman. "You have a nasty sense of humor when you're tired."  
  
"What makes you think I'm kidding?"  
  
The vampire sighed, his anger disappearing as quickly as it had appeared. "Oh, very well. Willie, wake me when the sun has set. Joshua, do try to stay out of trouble while I'm sleeping." Barnabas edged around the still floating staff and into his bedroom, firmly shutting the door in his servant's face.  
  
Willie turned to thank his benefactor only to find the young magician had fallen asleep, clutching one of the sofa cushions in his arms. Behind the servant, the heavy wooden staff slowly lowered itself to the ground and rolled back within arms reach of its master. "Well, I guess I'll just hang around here then." Willie stuttered, finding a dark corner to sit in. His nervous eyes darted from the closed bedroom door to the softly snoring form on the sofa. It was turning out to be a very long day.  
  
Pt. 24  
  
In a room in one of the finer hotels in the city, a young man sat reading his morning newspaper, eagerly scanning the front page for the news he expected to see. Trey Danvers was in his early forties, thin to almost gauntness with huge dark eyes that burned with a fanatic's fire. His hair was already turning gray and his face deeply lined, making him look far older then his years. His clothes were of the finest quality as were the rings and chains that he hung around his neck. For years, his talent for re- inventing his identity had served him well, keeping the authorities from discovering that the con man, thief and hit man that sat on the top of the most wanted list of five states were, in fact, all the same person. His activities had afforded him the money to make his most fervent wish come true - to see himself avenged. But there was no story in the paper this morning detailing another mysterious death and this lack troubled him. "That fool must have missed his mark. He'll be sorry he ever crossed me." He tossed the paper aside and began his preparations for the day, a day that would see either the end of his tormentors or his own.  
  
--  
  
Nick stared at his computer screen intently, his tired eyes burning from lack of sleep. Upon their return to Angel Island, he and Derek had been working to find the instigator of the horror's they had seen. Neither had mentioned the events of that night, each preferring to ignore the fact that while they remembered the night's activities, certain sequences of events were fuzzy to say the least. "Definitely the last time I trust a magician." Nick muttered to himself, rubbing his eyes wearily.  
  
"Any luck with your search?" Derek asked, moving through the hologram into the computer room, coffee cups held tightly in his hands.  
  
"Not a thing." Nick replied, accepting the caffeine gratefully. "There is no trace of this Danvers character after his sister died. Not that the lack of a trail really surprises me. From what I've been able to put together on this guy, he had a lot of practice making himself invisible."  
  
"How so?" Derek asked, pulling up a chair to sit beside his friend.  
  
"I made a few calls to some ex-Service people I know who are in the State police. A couple of these guys patrolled the area where Reverend Danvers had his congregation. One guy told me that every time the good Reverend had one of his revival meetings, someone's house would get broken into or a car would get stolen. Even had a couple of drug deals go down in the town while everyone was up at the church listening to Danvers rant on about hell fire and brimstone. My buddy said he couldn't prove it, but the suspicion among the police forces was that Trey was behind most of these events. But somehow he always seemed to have an unbreakable alibi."  
  
"His sister?" Derek asked, watching the computer displays more records on the screen.  
  
"Yeah, several times his sister was his alibi. A few times it was his dad and other times it was people from the church. This guy could have given David Copperfield a run for his money. Seems he could not only make things disappear but he could manage to not be there when it happened."  
  
"Hey! Anyone here?" Rachel's voice cut through the men's exhaustion. Their friend waltzed into the computer, a puzzled look on her face. "Who's our guest?"  
  
"Marcus Cole. He's the manager for a dancer by the name of Joshua Collins." Nick replied.  
  
"Collins? How strange! I flew in from Boston with a Mr. Collins, a Mr. Barnabas Collins." Rachel stopped, noticing the surprised looks on her friend's faces. "Is there something wrong?"  
  
"Rachel, we need to talk." Nick began, taking her hand.  
  
--  
  
Isolde leaned back restlessly in her bed, feeling suffocated by the pile of silk pillow that surrounded her. The darkened room had not proven as soothing as she had hoped. "I'll never get any rest this way." She muttered to herself, sitting up and wrapping a shawl around her shoulders. "I might as well get up and see if I can find out more about that magician Joshua Collins."  
  
"Does his magic interest you?" a deep voice echoed from the corner of the room. Daedelus stepped out of the shadows and stood beside her large, four- poster bed.  
  
"You promised Julian you'd deal with me if he called a Blood Hunt, didn't you?" she asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
"What choice did you leave me?"  
  
"It's not your choice to make. Julian assumes I am as soft on humans as he is, an assumption that he is forcing me to prove wrong. The Legacy hunters will remember nothing of what they saw of me even if I have to Blood-bond them to me to ensure their silence." She pulled her feet under her and leaned as far away from her paramour as possible.  
  
"You would make them your ghouls?" He hesitated a moment, aching to reach out and touch her raven hair. But her frozen expression kept him at bay with a pain in what was left of his heart he knew he would carry forever.  
  
"If I must. My sire had more than a few such servants, even a few who served in the Legacy. Though, of course, their leadership knows nothing of these dual loyalties." She shrugged, unconcerned.  
  
"The hunt is over. Can you not let it rest?"  
  
"The hunt is just begun. Somewhere out there is a human waiting to hear the results of his creature's midnight revels. A human with a soul as black as they say we have, perhaps even blacker. He raises up demons to kill other and keeps his hands clean of all its deeds by twisting the weak will of others to his advantage. Such a one is more dangerous to the clans than these other Hunters for I have no doubt that he can recognize our clans and use magic to bind us if it suits him. Besides, I enjoy a good chase. Especially if the prey is exceptionally twisted. It makes the hunt that much more sporting."  
  
"This is not a game!" Daedelus thundered, reaching out to grasp her arms.  
  
She shrugged him off and leaped daintily from the bed. "It is for me. Now let's see, if I were a magician where would I be staying?" Isolde padded silently from her bedroom, leaving the Nosferatu to watch her retreating form in silence.  
  
--  
  
Joshua woke with a start, feeling a pair of eyes staring at him. He sat up quickly, his hand reaching automatically for his staff then relaxed when he saw the trembling form standing before him. "Willie, you've got to learn to not creep around me like that. One of these days I'm going to swap you with this staff thinking you're a cockroach."  
  
"Sorry Mr. Joshua. I just thought maybe you'd like some breakfast?"  
  
"No, thanks. Just coffee for me. And a phonebook. I need to find the number for a certain very pretty lady."  
  
"A lady, Mr. Joshua?" the servant asked, laying the tray on the end table. "What lady?"  
  
"A very pretty lady vampire named Isolde. I have a feeling we'll both be chasing after the same quarry tonight and I'd just as soon hunt with her than have her make me a target." The young dancer jumped to his feet and stretched his tired muscles, sliding down into a perfect side split and then climbing back to his feet. He moved to the desk and fished out the large San Francisco phone book and laid it open before him.  
  
So what is her last name?" Willie asked, peering curiously over the other man's shoulder.  
  
"Haven't a clue." Joshua admitted, weaving mystical symbols with his fingers on the pages in front of him. "That's alright. All I need is a picture in my mind and a name and I can find anyone."  
  
Both men were startled as the phone rang suddenly beside them. Willie reached out hesitantly and answered it. "Mr. Collin's room. Who are you?" He looked back at the young man beside him with awe. "It's her! She says her name is Isolde and wants to talk to you!"  
  
Joshua took the receiver gingerly from the excitable man. "Hello?"  
  
"I see my instincts were correct." The decidedly female voice at the other end of the line replied. "I thought you and your cousin might still be together."  
  
"How did you know where to find us?" He asked, looking down at the half- woven spell before him. With a wave he dismissed the gathered energy and closed the book firmly.  
  
"Your cousin seemed the sort to enjoy first-class accommodations. I had my kinsmen call all the better establishments until they found one that had a Barnabas Collins registered. Simple enough. And so much neater than whatever magic you were planning. Now, let us talk about our mutual interest."  
  
"Yes. Let's talk about our target for tonight. Mr. Trey Danvers." The sorcerer settled himself on the edge of the desk, waving his cousin's servant away with a flick of his hand. The true hunt was about to begin.  
  
Pt. 25  
  
Joshua examined the finely carved front door of the Luna mansion, idly speculating on who or what he would find behind its beautiful etched glass carvings. No more than an hour had elapsed since his early morning phone call from Isolde. The call had been an invitation to talk about their mutual interest in Danvers, the twisted human responsible for the murders of the dancers who had auditioned for Joshua the year before. After a few moments of verbal fencing the lady had surprisingly issued a request that he join her in her haven or safe place to continue their plans. He had accepted quickly, knowing it was possible that the invitation was actually a trap but he had never investigated the lives of the Kindred before and his curiosity would not be denied. Now he stepped from his Mystic Path on to the front step of the elegant establishment, eliminating the need to explain his presence to the various security guards that sat at the bottom of the drive. "Wonder who this Luna character is?" he thought to himself, knocking on the door with his cane.  
  
The portal swung open quickly to reveal startled Kindred holding a dust rag. "Who are you?" the man demanded. "And how did you get past the guards?"  
  
"I suspect the man has talents even he doesn't know about." Isolde's voice floated out of the shadows behind the servant. The lady herself appeared in the background, dressed in a long, clingy red gown. Her dark hair was caught up in a ponytail, making her look much younger than normal. "Let him in. He's my guest."  
  
"Shouldn't I clear this with Mr. Luna?" the servant asked nervously.  
  
"I said, let him in." the woman's voice dipped ominously and she began to tap her long nails on the ornate marble staircase.  
  
The servant moved aside reluctantly then closed the door behind Joshua quietly. "Will there be anything else?" the Kindred asked, not daring to look up at the young woman.  
  
"No. That will be all." She dismissed him with a wave then moved to join the magician, linking her arm through his. "I think we'll be more comfortable in the study." She said, leading him down the corridor and into the drawing room.  
  
"So, who is Julian Luna?" Joshua asked, eyeing the room appreciatively. He managed to examine the woman with interest as well, keeping his gaze from lingering on her slender form for too long yet seeing details he had not had time to notice the night before. Details like her dancer's form, slight as a willow reed but with obvious strengths. Details like her small feet, which seemed to glide over the floor as she walked. Details like the sheen of her raven hair, hair that had not been kissed by the sun in so long it seemed to no longer reflect the light. Joshua smiled as he thought what his cousin would say if he knew that he was taking an interest in one of the undead.  
  
"Julian is the Prince of the City." Isolde replied, perching herself on the end of the sofa. She too was taking stock of the young man before her. He reminded her of one of her siblings, a Kindred named Sergei, a man that she was particularly fond of. The magician was slightly shorter than Julian and golden where the Prince was tall and dark. His shaggy blond hair seemed determined to hide his eyes from her, falling untidily in his face whenever he moved. She noticed particularly that he was as pale as the Kindred were, though he could easily walk about in the strongest sunlight.  
  
"That means what precisely?" Joshua asked, pretending not to notice her examination. "I know something about your kind but the politics of who does what to whom has always escaped me."  
  
"It means he is responsible for the actions of the clans in the city." She replied, motioning him to join her on the sofa. "But I didn't bring you here to talk about Julian."  
  
"No. I think we were going to talk about Trey Danvers. Any luck finding the little toad?" Joshua settled himself on the sofa, laying his staff across the coffee table.  
  
"Not yet." She admitted ruefully. "One of the clans has an affinity for research. I will have them find what they can on this human. And you? Have you any clues where to look?"  
  
"My best bet is that he's probably figured out his puppet's strings have been cut. He'll jump one of two ways. Either he'll run and we'll have the devil's own time finding him or he'll do something stupid like try to finish the job himself. Personally, I think he'll run."  
  
"I fear I must agree with you. But perhaps all is not lost. We might be able to force the human's hand, make him reveal himself one final time." Isolde reached under a stack of magazines and pulled out the advertisement for Joshua's ballet. "Perhaps if we use the right bait.?"  
  
"Do you have any idea how tired I am of being used as bait?" he sighed, taking the flyer from her hand. "Unfortunately, I think you may be on the right track with this. So, next question has to be - do we bring the Legacy into this as a possible backup?"  
  
"I think that we must if only to ensure their continued silence on the subject of our existence." She pushed her long hair back from her face with an anxious hand. "Once this creature is destroyed, I will have to deal with the Legacy."  
  
"That's not going to be a problem, is it?" Joshua asked sympathetically. "God knows, I don't much care for those do-gooders myself but I'd hate to have to explain their sudden deaths. I have enough of a problem explaining the dead bodies that appear around my cousin."  
  
"I fear that death isn't what is in store for the two I met last night." Isolde admitted ruefully. She wondered at her ability to speak so candidly to this stranger. It was as though he was already a part of her family, part of that small, inner circle of creatures she trusted with what was left of her soul and for the life of her she couldn't understand why. "How strange it is I can speak so to you." she commented, looking up at the young man beside her. "Tell me, wizard, have you cast one of your spells on me?"  
  
"Nope. Just my undying charm." Joshua quipped, smiling broadly. "Or maybe it's just that I'm not the type to judge another's actions having been responsible from some pretty bloody ones of my own. But I can cast a spell of forgetfulness on the two Legacy types if it will help. It might make the situation as a whole less complicated."  
  
"That would be most helpful. And what, pray tell sir, can I do for you in repayment of this boon?"  
  
"Talk to my cousin. Let him see that not everything about being undead has to be blood and horror and darkness."  
  
"I think I can manage that," she agreed with a smile. "Though personally, I don't see a problem with blood and darkness. Now, let us begin our plans for tonight's performance. We must make sure everything is in place before our quarry arrives." The two hunters leaned together over a pile of paperwork, oblivious to the shadow that detached itself from the wall and found its way out into the corridor.  
  
--  
  
"Say that again." Rachel repeated, looking from Derek to Nick with wide eyes. Her two associates had just spent the better part of an hour telling her about their investigation, including their adventures of the night before. She had listened in amazed silence; certain that if she had heard such stories from anyone but Nick and Derek she would have been running for the door.  
  
"The man you traveled here from Boston with has a cousin named Joshua who is a magician." Nick replied patiently. "He was working with us to destroy a demon. And there are rumors that Cousin Barnabas may not be exactly human either."  
  
Derek frowned, wondering whether he should mention his vision of Barnabas's vampire nature then thought better of it. "Suffice to say, Rachel, that both men are not what they appear to be."  
  
"That's putting it mildly." Rachel replied, shaking her head in astonishment. "So where is this Joshua right now?"  
  
"He took his cousin to some safe haven to plan his next move." Derek replied, rubbing his temples in a futile attempt to ease his growing headache. "We'll see him later. Right now, we need to concentrate on finding Trey Danvers before he finds another pawn to use in his plans for revenge."  
  
"You say that this Danvers was the dead girl's brother and that this whole business started because he wanted to avenge her death?" Rachel mused, reaching out to flip open the file in front of Nick. She read through what little information they had found detailing the suicide, which had been the catalyst for the horrors they had witnessed. "Interesting. I wonder if part of his anger isn't displaced guilt."  
  
"Say that again?" Nick asked, confused.  
  
"What if your Mr. Danvers encouraged his sister to get out of their miserable home life, encouraged her to run away from what was obviously a very stifling home environment. Maybe he assumed she could take better care of herself then she could, or maybe he assumed that she was heading for a more refined lifestyle than she ended up in. Either way, the girl ends up dead and now he has to find someone to blame for it." Rachel stood up and started to pace around the computer terminal, taping the file in her hand. "He doesn't want to think that maybe she'd still be alive if she hadn't listened to him so he finds a scapegoat for his anger. All those other people who lied to her about her abilities to get her money, all those men who used and abused her and told her dream was a lie - they were the ones he decided to punish for her death. It was easier than blaming himself."  
  
"But he wasn't really to blame." Nick protested. "Life with daddy was probably just as hellish as what she experienced out in the real world."  
  
"But she'd still be alive." Rachel insisted. "Maybe in his mind, life in hell was preferable to death."  
  
"Whatever his motivation, we need to locate him before he strikes again." Derek insisted, cutting the debate short with a gesture. "And I think I can guess what his next move will be."  
  
Pt. 26  
  
The dancers twirled around each other, stepping lightly through their parts as the music played in the background. At the front of the stage their choreographer Joshua Collins leaped into the air like a gazelle, landing almost silently on the balls of his feet. His partner, Janelle, cocked her head to one side in appreciate for her employers effortless performance, then pranced forward to perform her own pirouettes. All around the practicing artists the stage crew made their last minute preparations for the nights performance.  
  
"All right, that's a wrap." Joshua called out as the music died. "Everyone get some rest and start thinking about your performances tonight. I want you to get your heads in the right place so there's no surprises we'll have to work around."  
  
"What happened last night?" Janelle asked, dropping her sweat-soaked towel into the hands of her maid. The lead ballerina, a dancer whose family connections allowed her certain luxuries, glanced up at her partner soberly.  
  
"None of your concern." Joshua snapped back, glaring at the girl until she dropped her gaze. "All you need to worry about is tonight. Now be off with you. I have work to do." He watched soberly as the troupe filed slowly off the stage, then proceeded to rehearse the last scene of his ballet again, dancing quickly and surely across the floor.  
  
"Nice. Very nice. Must have taken you a long time to get that proficient." A voice called up from the darkened theater.  
  
"Not as long as you might guess." Joshua answered, twirling to a stop just at the edge of the stage. He glanced into the darkness, his eyes fixed on the figure that sat a few rows into the darkness. "So, Derek sent you to keep an eye on me, did he Nick?"  
  
Nick rose from his seat and stepped into the light. "Derek thinks maybe our mutual friend might take a stab at finishing the job his demon started. You, on the other hand, look like you don't have a care in the world."  
  
"Why should I if the Legacy is watching over me?" Joshua replied with a smirk. "Just don't make it too easy for the guy to get to me, will you? It's so hard to explain to the local cops when I have to fry someone."  
  
"Yeah, I'll just bet it is." Nick sauntered up the side steps onto the stage, checking out the multitude of places an assassin could hide. "Going ahead with this performance isn't too smart. Our boy might miss you and hit one of the other dancers."  
  
"Doubtful. He's a magic user. I think whatever he tries to use tonight will have very specific instructions. Spells can be molded for use on only one person, you know."  
  
"Now how would I know that? I'm just a dumb grunt. You're the wizard."  
  
"What is it about me that bugs you?" Joshua asked, curious. "The fact that I use magic or the fact that the Legacy doesn't? Man, talk about having a problem! Just because some magic users are in league with the Darkside doesn't make us all evil. That's like saying that since you were mugged by a Mexican then all Mexican's are criminals."  
  
"Well, so far you haven't exactly been totally open with us." Nick replied, wincing at the dancer's analogy.  
  
"I guess I'm as guilty as you are of seeing all Legacy types as the same as the ones that tried to hunt me down when I first found my talent." Joshua yanked his towel from a chair and briskly rubbed his long, blond hair. "I guess neither one of us is willing to look past our bad experiences. Sad, isn't it?"  
  
Nick shrugged, and then looked up into the floodlights. "So how are you going to protect yourself?"  
  
"I'm not." Joshua responded, tossing the towel away. "I'm going to let the man come to me." He started off across the stage towards his dressing room, the Legacy's security chief in tow. It took all the restraint he had built over years of spell-crafting not to look back as a dark shadow reached out from behind the draperies and retrieved the towel he had just thrown away.  
  
--  
  
"I understand we had a guest today." Julian looked across the long table at his Archon, his face unreadable. Isolde sat at the other end of the table, dressed for the theater in a green silk sheath that left little to the imagination. Her waist-length hair was done up in one long braid that fell to her belt, with silver cords interwoven in its raven length. On her bare arms she wore bracelets of hammered silver with Celtic animals engraved on their surface. The Ventrue Archon was a lovely sight and one that her Prince was having a hard time ignoring.  
  
"Yes, Joshua Collins paid us a visit at my request." Isolde leaned back in her chair, her eyes equally inscrutable. "We've devised a plan to bring our mutual prey out into the open, using Joshua as bait. If all goes well, the madness will end tonight."  
  
"You did not think to inform me before you brought a stranger into my house?" Julian asked, quietly.  
  
"I was under the impression that it was my house as well. Obviously, I was mistaken." Isolde reached into a small evening bag and pulled out a set of keys. She slid them silently across the oaken table at her kinsman. "I'll be packed and out by tonight."  
  
Julian sighed in frustration. "That's not what I want and you know it. I'm only concerned about a Kine having access to our Haven."  
  
"This Kine is blood relation to one of our own. He will not strike against us if we do not strike against him. Besides, if he wanted us dead I have good reason to believe that nothing short of a coven of Tremere wizards could stop him." She stretched her shapely arms above her head, trying to work the kinks out of her back. There was another presence in the room, one she was very familiar with who obviously did not want to be noticed. She wondered briefly at his hesitation then focused herself on the man at the end of the table. "Will you be joining me tonight, My Prince? Just to ensure that I don't somehow shatter the Masquerade with my unorthodox schemes?"  
  
"Do you wish my company?" Julian asked, drumming his fingers on the table's well-polished surface.  
  
"I would not be adverse to it." Isolde replied, shrugging.  
  
"Then I'll meet you in front of the house in thirty minutes. Have the car waiting for us." Julian rose gracefully from his seat and moved swiftly out of the room, leaving his Archon still in her seat.  
  
"Are you going to hide in the shadows all night or are you going to come out and talk to me?" Isolde called out, looking at the shadows behind the Prince's chair.  
  
Dadelous moved slowly into the light, his deep-set eyes troubled. "The sorcerer fascinates you." he stated flatly.  
  
"Many things fascinate me." she replied, examining her perfect nails with exaggerated care. "Finding this madman who calls up demons fascinates me. Even you still fascinate me, though sometimes I wonder why."  
  
He turned away from her cruel words, a sharp stab of pain running through his heart. "Your sire would be no more pleased with your interest in a magician than he would be in our relationship."  
  
"My sire does not dictate where my heart may turn, nor do you." She rose gracefully and glided up to the tall Nosferatu, running her cool hand across his face. "You need not fear the magician. My interest in him is far different from my love for you." she rose on the tips of her toes to plant a gentle kiss on her paramours face. "Now I must see to the car or Julian will have another reason to be annoyed with me." She glided out of the room, leaving the Nosferatu primogen alone with his tortured thoughts.  
  
Pt. 27  
  
Backstage prior to any Collins troupe performance, the dressing areas were usually a mix of mass pandemonium and screaming hysteria. Tonight was no different. Dancers from the chorus ran back and forth, trying to find their props while also trying to remember their steps. The lead dancers sat in their dressing rooms, mentally rehearsing their every move, hoping that the orchestra wouldn't miss its cue and cause them to miss theirs. Even Joshua, who had danced the lead in many other performances, paced nervously around the small room, his mind torn between his performance in the ballet and the performance he would give later, when the hunter came calling.  
  
"Derek just called in." Nick snapped his cell-phone closed and leaned back in the makeup chair, watching his charge stretch his leg muscles in preparation for the dance. "He and your manager, Marcus, will be here just prior to the opening curtain."  
  
"That's fine." Joshua answered absently. "Is Barnabas coming as well?"  
  
"Did you tell him he should?" Nick asked sarcastically.  
  
"I can't keep track of all the little details." Joshua shrugged and reached out, plucking the phone from Nick's hand. He quickly dialed the hotel number and was put through to his cousin's room. "Hey Cuz! You are coming to tonight's performance, right? Don't tell me you don't have anything to wear, you're the only man I know who travels with a tux permanently in his overnight bag. Fine, just make it here when you can. I'll leave a ticket for you at the front." He closed the phone with a frustrated snap and tossed it back to the younger man.  
  
"So, are you going to tell me what you expect will happen tonight or do I get to guess?" Nick asked, tucking his phone back into his pocket.  
  
"With any luck, our friend Mr. Danvers is already preparing a demon just for me. And since he's had such bad luck with his other puppets, I'm betting he brings the creature to me himself."  
  
"If I didn't know better, I'd swear you were setting him up for a fall." Nick commented, frowning.  
  
"I am. By now, Danvers has stolen something of mine, something with my scent on it to give to his creation so that it targets me specifically. He'll probably let it loose when there are the least amount of distractions to shake the creature as it hunts me down, either just before or just after the performance. I'm betting he won't be too far behind the beast when it comes for me either. He'll want to savor that moment in person."  
  
"If you know that's what he's planning, why not just use your magic to stop him?" Nick asked.  
  
"Because I don't know, not for certain anyway. I've got to give the man the benefit of the doubt. Maybe what happened to his minions will scare him away from the Darkness. Maybe he'll crawl in a hole and hope I don't come looking to dig him out of it. Whatever happens, I have to let it unfold as it will. Besides, what's the fun of always settling things right with Magic?" Joshua turned to his bodyguard with a bright, false smile that faded quickly. "Truthfully, Nick, Magic is as much a temptation to me as it was to Danvers. You get to the point where you start doing everything with Magic, letting it run your life instead of using it as a tool to enhance it. There's always the danger of starting to believe that you deserve more than anyone else does because you can do more than anyone else can. After a while, getting what you want by any means isn't something to be avoided anymore."  
  
"Absolute power corrupts absolutely." Nick nodded in agreement; remembering the officers he had seen in the military who had believed their rank and privilege gave them the right to abuse their troops. "So how do you keep that from happening to you?"  
  
"By always remembering that once I was human and that part of me still is. I'm not God, just a man who has been given great gifts and great responsibilities to go with them." Joshua pulled his costume's jacket from a chair and donned it, barely glancing at himself in the mirror as he did so. "You haven't said much about last nights events. Don't tell me you're as appalled as my cousin by the actions I took?"  
  
Nick grinned thinly. "No, just wish that thing's going up in smoke hadn't left such a bad smell on my clothes. By the way, did you ever figure out just who that girl was that came out of the park with you?" For a moment, the last evening's events flashed before Nick's eyes some more clearly than others. "I don't much remember where she went after the beast became a crispy critter."  
  
"Not surprising given the circumstances." Joshua's voice seemed to drop an octave and turn as smooth as honey. "I think she was looking for the creature the same as we were but I'm not sure why. It doesn't matter, though, since she seems to have disappeared after its destruction. We'll probably never see her again." Joshua gently nudged the thought into the young man's mind with the power of his voice, deftly smoothing out any doubts the soldier might have had about the events of the previous night.  
  
"Yeah, you're probably right." Nick shook his head, suddenly tired. "Man, I should have caught a nap before coming here. I'm going to be yawning all night."  
  
"Just make sure you aren't sleeping when Danvers shows up." Joshua warned playfully. "I'd hate for you to have to explain that to my cousin." The sound of the two men's laughter sounded down the corridor, as the warrior prepared for their next confrontation with the minions of the Darkness.  
  
--  
  
In the abandoned building down the street from the theater, a fire burned in an upturned oil drum, gleaming with an unholy light. Behind the drum a figure swayed to the sound of his own mumbled prayers. Beside him was a table containing a dead pigeon, a large rotted pumpkin and the sweat- stained towel that Joshua had thrown down only hours before. Suddenly the figure caught up the bloody carcass and wrapped it in the towel. Together with the rotted fruit, he tossed the bundle into the fire with a final screamed petition the stepped back to wait. It wasn't long before a figure seemed to emerge from the smoky depths of the fire, a malformed figure with a hideous resemblance to a man. It leered at its summoner then lifted its rotting face to the moon and sniffed eagerly.  
  
"No yet, my pretty one." The man crooned, motioning the creature to sit. "But soon, your prey will be within your grasp. And when he is, then you will fulfill your part of our bargain and I will fulfill mine. And that fool who dared to defy my master will pay with his immortal soul."  
  
The sound of mad laughter and monstrous roaring was faintly heard through the night, drowned out by the sounds of rush hour traffic in the city.  
  
Pt. 28  
  
Joshua leaped into the air, timing his moves with the lively gypsy music, letting himself flow with the rhythm of the guitars. Behind him, the rest of the troupe dressed as simple peasant folk, pretended to enjoy a great celebration, some twirling in place, some prancing before others as though competing for their attentions. But all eyes in the audience were on him, the lead dancer, whose turns and vaults epitomized the soul of the music. He finished his final pirouettes right on the last chord of the song, tossing his long hair back with a flourish. For a moment he allowed himself to be proud of his performance and the effect it was having on the people before him. Then his sharpened senses felt a flutter at the edge of his sight, a dark shadow ducking just behind the lights. "Well, I guess it really is showtime." He thought wearily, hoping the Legacy security chief wouldn't run across their adversary before all his plans were in place.  
  
In the audience, Barnabas watched his young cousin's performance with a mix of pleasure and dread. Joshua's ballets were always a feast for the eyes, one his kinsman rarely missed. But tonight his heart was like lead in his chest. Somewhere in the shadows, a monster lurked, a human who trafficked in the Dark Arts. This creature, for Barnabas could not find it in himself to call this being a man, would come tonight for his cousin's life and soul. Though the two men argued good-naturedly about almost everything, the vampire felt a respect and love for the younger man he had not allowed himself to feel for another since his brother's betrayal of him while under Angelique's spell. Barnabas swore to himself that at whatever the cost, his golden cousin would live to see the sun rise again.  
  
Also in the audience, Isolde joined the humans in the audience in their appreciation of the dancer's art. Beside her, Julian sat quietly, his eyes scanning the audience for signs of the coming darkness. "Was that not a performance fit for a Prince?" she asked playfully, motioning to the stage with her program.  
  
"He's quite talented." Julian agreed, his eyes drawn to a dark figure in the front row. The man's stillness and pallor marked him as Kindred, but not one the Prince had ever met. "You said this man was blood kin to one of our kind. Would that be his relation seated near the stage?"  
  
Isolde glanced down the row, not bothering with her opera glasses. "Yes, that's his cousin Barnabas. Seems both he and the Legacy are in attendance tonight."  
  
"Where are the Legacy hunters?" Julian asked, tensely.  
  
"The young soldier from the night before is there, waiting for the wizard in the wings. Their leader sits not far from the sorcerer's kinsman. The older man with him is also a friend of his." She glanced quickly back at the stage, seeing an almost imperceptible movement in the rigging. "Our dark friend has arrived and from here it looks as though he has grown himself another playmate."  
  
"Another of those monsters?" Julian looked into the light fixtures, his eyes almost blinded by their brilliance. Behind the light he could see movement and the outline of a grotesque shape.  
  
"Yes. It seems my Prince that the hunt will soon begin. We had best make ready." Isolde rose gracefully from her seat, followed by her Prince. Both were soon lost in the crush of humanity that poured from the building, many chattering like birds over the performance they had just seen. None knew they were in fact leaving before the final act.  
  
Pt. 29.  
  
Joshua moved quietly out onto the deserted stage, carefully pacing his way through the routine he had just performed. The ballet had been over for hours and the rest of the troupe, along with their numerous admirers, had left to continue the party elsewhere. He had begged off, claiming a migraine from the stress of opening night jitters. None in his troupe had questioned him. Now he walked through the steps of the last act, waiting for the final curtain of this odd drama to open.  
  
"What a pretty site!" a voice from beyond the footlights called out. A man's form stepped into the aisle, silhouetted by the dim house lights. "What elegance and grace! Too bad it's about to become lifeless clay!"  
  
Joshua smiled grimly, aware sounds coming from the lighting track above him. "Let me guess. You would be the grieving brother."  
  
Trey Danvers smiled certain he could not be seen from the poorly lit stage. "Grieving? Not hardly. The silly fool very nearly cost me everything. I had plans for the wench, but then she gets some wild idea about making a life for herself away from daddy dearest."  
  
"Plans?" Joshua asked, continuing to move through the steps of the intricate final dance. He cut the bounding leaps from the routine, walking through only the least complicated moves, as though pacing it out in his mind with an eye for future changes.  
  
"Yes. I encouraged her to learn how to dance and to do other less artistic things - the better to please my Master when I offered her soul up to him for more power."  
  
"Oh, well that explains a lot." Joshua stopped for a moment and stretched his arms high above his head, his sharp eyes pinpointing the spot where the shadows had last moved in the overhead lights. "You wanted to have her in your power so that when you ran away you could take her with you. Your own personal offering to the Lords of Darkness, one who would come willingly to the sacrifice to please you. Charming! I'll bet her boyfriend was even your idea, right?"  
  
"That simpleton was under my control from the moment he tried to hustle me in a bar outside of San Francisco. He had some talent as a dancer, but was not willing to work for his chance at the big time. I offered him his dreams for the price of babysitting my sister and making sure no one was able to rescue her before the time of sacrifice. But then, you had to interfere."  
  
"As I recall, all I did was toss the dolt out into the street."  
  
"She got scared and bolted back to the room. I wasn't ready for her to know how I was able to do the things I did or who my benefactor was. When she saw."  
  
"She freaked." Joshua finished his stretches and stood squarely in the available light. "Did she really kill herself or did you help her along?"  
  
"She took the pills herself, to wipe away the horror of what she had seen. By the time I was able to get to her it was too late. Just as it is too late for you."  
  
The man's voice had steadily risen to an insane scream and with his final statement the fragile peace was broken. The shadow Joshua had seen moving in the shadows dropped down to the stage to reveal another of the pumpkin- headed creatures, even more monstrous than the first one. The young dancer grimaced at its hideousness for a moment than dived straight for it, sliding between its legs and off the stage behind it. "Now, Nick!" he yelled, leaping up from the orchestra pit.  
  
Nick stepped from the side of the stage and opened fire, riddling the creature's rotten flesh with bullets. "This isn't working!" Nick sang out, running to catch up with his charge.  
  
"It's not supposed to." Joshua replied, scanning the auditorium for Danvers. "All we need to do is keep it occupied."  
  
"Occupied!" Nick sputtered, reloading as he backed away. "Are you nuts!"  
  
"Certifiable." Joshua agreed happily, catching up with the young soldier.  
  
"Wonderful! Just bloody wonderful!" Nick grumbled, handing the dancer his spare gun. "Tell me you can at least shoot."  
  
"Sure. One question though. Where's the safety?"  
  
Nick gritted his teeth and continued to fire.  
  
--  
  
Danvers ran madly from the theater, his breath catching in his chest. This hadn't gone as planned. The dancer was supposed to have cowered from his creation, not charged it. "A trap!" the madman muttered to himself. "It was all a trap."  
  
"Danvers! Stop!" two older men ran out of the parking lot headed straight for him. One he recognized as Collin's business manager. The other was a stranger to him, but one he was sure he didn't want to meet. Trey Danvers was an expert at escaping sticky situations and tonight was no exception. With a quick turn and feint he disappeared into the shadows surrounding the theater.  
  
--  
  
"We lost him." Marcus exclaimed, horrified.  
  
"He can't have gone far." Derek replied.  
  
"Leave that madman to me." A voice called out. Barnabas stepped from the side door of the theater and glanced in the direction the madman had been heading when he disappeared. "I can find him. Joshua and your man will need your help to keep that thing at bay. Hurry!" With that the vampire disappeared into the shadows, leaving the two older men to charge past him into the theater.  
  
--  
  
Isolde and Julian watched carefully as the strange vampire ran off after the human. "Good. He is acting just as Joshua said he would."  
  
"Which one - the madman or the wizard's kinsman?" Julian asked.  
  
"Both." She replied with a cold laugh. "The boy's quite the schemer. If I did not know better, I would swear he was Machiavelli reincarnated. But that is neither here nor there. Our part of the plan begins now."  
  
"What part do we play?" Julian looked at his Primogen with interest, wondering what she and her new acquaintance had planned.  
  
"We are to deal with the human while the wizard deals with the monster." Isolde looked up at her Prince with shinning eyes. "Come my Prince. Dinner awaits." She started off before him; laughing as she lightly followed the trail only another Kindred could have followed. Julian stared for a moment; suddenly aware of what it was about this strange, undying creature that so fascinated his Nosferatu primogen. Then, with a growl, he charged off after her, unmindful of the dark shadow that followed them.  
  
Pt. 30  
  
"So tell me again how long we're suppose to distract him?" Nick asked, panting from exertion. He and Joshua had just spent the better part of twenty minutes playing hide-and-seek with the demon sent to kill the dancer. Somewhere in the depths of the theater he could here it roaring, frustrated with their continued escape.  
  
"Till Barnabas gets to Danvers or the sun comes up, which ever comes first." Joshua explained patiently, listening for the sound of their perused. "Heads up. Someone's coming." The two young men tensed, ready to spring when two dark shapes suddenly fell in on them.  
  
Nick reared back, ready to backhand the figure before him then stopped cold. "Derek! What the hell!"  
  
"Good God, Marcus, you nearly gave me heart failure." Joshua pulled the old man from the floor and brushed him off. "Dreadfully sorry, old man."  
  
"Your cousin suggested you might need our help." Marcus sputtered, trying to find some shred of his dignity.  
  
"Remind me to have a little talk with my cousin when this is over with." Joshua sighed in frustration. "Your presence here only makes this more difficult." Somewhere down the hall, a door rattled then fell in. "Oh Hell! Scatter, everyone! We'll meet back on the stage." With that, the dancer darted down the hall and disappeared.  
  
"I hate when he does that." Marcus commented wearily.  
  
"Not half as much as I do." Nick muttered, checking the hall for intruders. "All clear, let's go!" He herded the other two men towards the rear door. "With any luck we can circle around the front and come back in behind it." He cautiously opened the back door and peered around then motioned the other two to go before him. As the door closed behind him he heard the sound of the creature roaring as it swept past the exit and headed for the main theater. Its voice had a note of triumph that worried him.  
  
--  
  
"Danvers!" Barnabas's voice sounded through the darkness, filling up all empty air around the madman. "Stand and face me."  
  
Danvers turned, his pale eyes filled with a lunatic light. "Did my Dark Master send you to help me?" he asked, seeing the vampire for the immortal creature that he was.  
  
"I serve no Master." Barnabas spat back, his voice taking on a tight, almost hysterical tone. "You dare to raise your hand to my family, you insignificant worm! You worthless human scum!"  
  
"You're that dancer's kin?" Danvers giggled madly. "He's probably twisting from the rafters by now. And so will you when."  
  
"When what?" a woman's voice purred from behind him. Isolde stepped into the dim light of the alleyway, her Prince behind her. She smiled as she saw the huge form of her Nosferatu paramour silently move to stand behind the other vampire. "When your creature comes to rescue you? And how long will that be?"  
  
"The legends say the creature must make his kill before the sun rises. If it does not, the potential victim is freed from its curse." Dadelous's deep voice flowed out of the darkness, making the madman between the two sets of vampires shiver in dread.  
  
"Sunrise! Everything happens at sunrise." Isolde pretended to pout then turned prettily to Julian. "Sire, I simply don't think I can wait that long. Have I your leave to act?"  
  
"My lady, you have never not had my leave to act." Julian replied, a smile forming at the corner of his mouth. His Ventrue Primogen was playing with the madman like a cat plays with a mouse. He normally would have abhorred her cruelty but tonight she was weaving a spell even he was powerless to ignore. With a bow, he motioned to her to proceed.  
  
Danvers turned, stunned to see the pretty woman before him turn into cold, red-eyed death. He tried frantically to recall any of the spells of protection he had learned over the years but nothing came to him. In the blink of an eye she was on him and the last sound he heard before the darkness overcame him was her throaty voice in his ear. "Tell your Master the Kindred send greetings."  
  
  
  
Pt. 31  
  
Joshua stood again in the center of the stage, waiting for the others to join him. The shadows all around the stage seemed to move with a life of their own. The theater was deathly quiet as though it were holding its breath, waiting for the final curtain to fall. Joshua could hear the creature lumbering slowly towards him from behind the stage; its movement's silent to all except those who were one with the Magic. "Anytime now lady." He thought impatiently. "Come on, pretty lady, finish your prey off. This is becoming annoying." Then the sounds stopped.  
  
The dancer turned back to the stage to see the unholy creature looming behind him, its unearthly eyes gleaming with triumph at running down its prey. It stood almost a foot taller than its predecessor, and its face was already taking on the outlines of the man who had summoned it, with its gaunt face and receding chin. Its head bobbed and weaved like a snake as it slowly circled its quarry, tensing its wiry muscles for the spring, the final act in its evil play.  
  
But that act was not to be. Joshua watched in satisfaction as the creature stumbled as it tried to make its final moves, and then slowly crumbled to the ground. Its eyes grew dimmer as the source of its life force was drained away to nothing, leaving the beast nothing more than a tangle of rotting vegetation on the polished wood floors. "Well that went well." Joshua commented to no one in particular, walking over to prod the lifeless mass with his toe. In the distance a door was yanked open and the sound of running feet echoed through the silent hall.  
  
"Joshua! Are you alright!" Marcus called from the back of the theater, the two Legacy members on either side of him.  
  
"Just ducky, old son, how about yourself?" The dancer replied flippantly.  
  
"Where's the creature?" Nick asked, approaching the stage with his gun drawn, keeping the other two men safely behind him.  
  
"Gone to Hell, nevermore to return." Joshua said, fishing in his pocket for a pinch of some strange dust. He tossed it lightly on the sodden mass at his feet and muttered a few arcane words and with a whoosh the remains burst into flames.  
  
"If you could do that," Nick asked sarcastically, "what did you need us for?"  
  
"Entertainment?" Joshua smiled innocently then leaped nimbly off the stage and started for the doors.  
  
"I really hate magicians." Nick muttered, falling in step behind him with Derek and Marcus taking up the rear. Behind them the flames died down, leaving only a dark residue on the formerly clean floors.  
  
Pt. 32  
  
Isolde stretched her arms above her head happily, enjoying the night air at her favorite spot in the cemetery. It had been a week since she had destroyed the madman who had called up demons as tools for his vengeance and life (such as it was) had gone back to normal. Joshua had insisted on dealing with the Legacy members, surreptitiously wiping their memories clean of their brief encounter with the beautiful Kindred. In return, she had talked to his cousin about life as Kindred. It had been a trying conversation at best. The man alternated between extreme self-loathing and extreme self-confidence. But finally he had admitted that though he cared little for killing, the life of the undead did have its advantages. "Now I hope the silly man remembers the rules of the Masquerade when he gets home." she thought to herself.  
  
"Is this a private bench or can anyone sit down?" Julian stood at the edge of the shadows, his dark form bathed in the moons light.  
  
"Please join me, my Prince." Isolde replied, moving over to allow her kinsman to seat himself on the cold stone bench.  
  
"I've never understood your enjoyment of this place." The Ventrue Prince commented, gingerly taking a seat. "Kindred who dwell on death are usually not long for our immortal existence."  
  
Isolde shrugged. "It's peaceful here. No politics, no kine trying to run us down and end our existence - just the eternal quiet of the grave. I find it's easier to think here, to see all the paths that our undead lives make us take. There are no distractions to take away from my contemplation of our existence."  
  
Julian smiled slightly, then shifted to view her at a better angle. "So, how goes it with our friend the mage?"  
  
"Joshua has gone back to Boston with his cousin. He's made me promises to keep an eye on his unhappy kinsman to make sure he does not violate the rules of the Masquerade. And I've made him promises that my sire and brothers will try to ensure that the Prince of Boston will not hunt his cousin down as an Anarch."  
  
"Boston isn't held by our clan." Julian commented mildly.  
  
"No, but my sire has many friends among other clans - and just as many who fear him. The Prince of Boston will see things his way - of this I have no doubt. No one ever says no to my sire. At least, not more than once."  
  
Julian laughed mirthlessly; knowing that Isolde's sire - his own great- grandsire - was one of the oldest of their kind and therefore one of the most powerful. He had no doubt his counterpart in Boston would find it easier to agree to the elder Ventrue's demands than face his not inconsiderable wrath. "What if your sire doesn't agree to speak for the man?"  
  
Isolde smiled coldly. "He did refuse at first, until I pointed out that having a mage as ally to the clan would stand us in good stead should we ever have to face down the Tremair or the Sabat. My sire is nothing if not a practical man. That is how he has survived all these millennia."  
  
"Have you and Daedalus made up your quarrel?" Julian asked softly.  
  
"No. But we will eventually. Time is of no consequence for immortals. It will take as long as it takes for us to make it right between us. And if we don't, well then perhaps is wasn't meant to be after all."  
  
The two kindred sat companionable for a few moments, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Julian frowned as he remembered another small matter. "What of the Legacy hunters?"  
  
"Joshua said he would "rearrange" their memories of their meeting with me." Isolde shrugged, unconcerned. "I have no worry that they will remember me as a vampire." A small, mischievous smile appeared on the woman's usually cold face. "But I would give much to know just what he did allow them to remember me as. Knowing that boy, it could be almost anything."  
  
Julian laughed, now genuinely amused. "As long as he didn't paint you as a werewolf, then we should be fine."  
  
--  
  
The Legacy House on the island was quiet, its guest having long since gone. Rachel had left as well, her curiosity about their newly acquired friends not satisfied by either Derek or Nick's vague explanations of the week's activities. The young dancer had been an interesting study, alternating between arrogance and charm - very much like his cousin. She had noticed that he and Nick had developed an uneasy rapport, bantering back and forth with each other in a way she had not seen since Philip had left. Yet she had the distinct feeling that the young ex-SEAL had reservations about his new friend and many more so about his cousin. But there had been no time for her to verify her observations. The men had left for Boston within days of the ballet's opening, Joshua having decided that he would try again to open it in the city in which it had been written.  
  
Now the Legacy House's security chief and Precept were busy preparing their reports on the demon they had hunted for the rest of the organization. Nick sat at his computer console, frowning as he read through his final report on the last week's adventures. One event still bothered him. "Derek, do you remember when we ran that first beast to ground in the cemetery?"  
  
Derek looked up from a report he had been reading with a frown. "Yes. What is the problem?"  
  
"Do you remember a woman being with Joshua? Pretty, pale, long dark hair - seemed to be real at home with the hunt."  
  
Derek frowned as he dredged up his memories of that night's events. "She was with Joshua, wasn't she?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess so. Do you remember who he said she was?"  
  
"I thought he told you."  
  
"He did but you know Joshua. His idea of an explanation is one big joke."  
  
Derek looked quizzically at his young friend. "Who did he say she was?"  
  
"Well, it's crazy but I think he said she was running from some special anti-terrorist unit and that we needed to pretend we hadn't seen her there. That if we mentioned it to anyone we might blow her cover. I mean, how crazy is that?"  
  
"Is it any crazier than our chasing down a demon created from a rotting pumpkin?"  
  
Nick shrugged, then hit the enter key to send his report on its way to the Mother House. "I guess not. By the way, what did you tell Carmack about the case?"  
  
"That the boyfriend was the murder, that he was high on drugs and set himself on fire when he thought that we and Detective Toussaint had him cornered. He found what was left of the man's body in that mausoleum so he was able to sell that story to the Chief of Police. The case will be marked officially closed."  
  
"Did you tell him the rest of the story?" Nick asked.  
  
"I suspect Detective Toussaint will fill in the blanks. If he wants to hear it from me, he knows where to find me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'll turn in."  
  
"Yeah, I'm right behind you. It'll be good to get some sleep tonight without wondering if I'll wake up turned into something slimy."  
  
"I don't think Joshua would do that." Derek protested laughingly.  
  
"Want to make a bet on that?"  
  
--  
  
"You told them what?" Barnabas stared aghast at his cousin.  
  
Joshua grinned mischievously. "Told them she was an ex-secret agent. Or at least, that's what Nick will think I told him. I just mind-wiped Derek. He's got enough bats in his belfry, he doesn't need anymore."  
  
"And what happens if Nick sees Isolde again?"  
  
"I put a suggestion in his head that he should pretend not to notice her so that he wouldn't blow her cover. Nick's just paranoid enough he go with it. So you see, cousin, all's well that ends well."  
  
"Your impossible!"  
  
"Nope. I'm fine. It's the rest of the world that's crazy." The dancer slouched down in his seat and calmly went to sleep, leaving his undead cousin to shake his head at the man's audacity. He only hoped that Joshua's actions would not come back to haunt them one day. 


End file.
